Southern Comfort
by LibertySun
Summary: It's summer 1957 in Hazlehurst, MS. Teenage Brian & Justin can't stand each other. When forced to work together they'll discover more about life & themselves. A coming of age tale of youthful innocence,finding friendship, exploring sexuality & first love.
1. Icy Hatred & Heated Anticipation

The summer's humidity did nothing to rival the heavy fog of tension invading the interior of Grassi's General Store. The morning had begun with a peaceful sunrise over Hazlehurst Mississippi. Though it was still early afternoon, the warmth of the sun was quickly fading. The icy hatred radiating from the two boys was leaving a frigid coolness in the atmosphere.

"Screw you Kinney!" the blond spat in between heavy gasps of air. Justin could taste the crimson iron assaulting his tongue as it poured in from his busted lip.

"You wish." Brian retorted smugly, wiping blood from his own mouth. _'You wish? Why had he said that? What did it even mean?' _Briefly_, _Brian's own wonder hijacked his dominating demeanor. He swallowed whatever unwarranted weirdness he suddenly felt and firmly straightened his posture again.

'_Damn. This Taylor kid was such an arrogant ass._' His very presence ignited a fiery disdain in Brian's veins.

He was no longer sure why it was he'd hated him so much, he just knew that he goddamn did. Actually, he'd hated even more that that was a lie.

Justin pushed through Ben's restricting grip. He wanted to connect his fist to that pretty face. Brian Kinney was always making dick comments to he and his friends. Strutting around town like he was God's gift to Hazlehurst. _'If this was the gift, he'd hoped they kept the receipt to exchange it.' _

"We were here first. So you can leave now, or we'll cream ya." Michael said with what Justin could only interpret as an inflated sense of superiority. Everyone knew Novotny always hid behind Brian.

"No way! This is your uncle's store not yours." Justin declared as he very deliberately pushed into Brian's shoulder on his way to the counter. He came for a goddamn ice cream soda, and he had every intention on getting it. He had barely reached the stool when he heard that velvet voice again.

"Stay out of my way this summer Taylor." Brian said his name like it tasted bitter.

Justin just smiled. _Brightly._

Something within Brian clawed at his stomach, furiously trying to escape. It was an emotion he couldn't place, name, or even acknowledge. It wasn't an _unpleasant _feeling. He just didn't know what to do with it. He transformed it into anger.

Before his mind could catch up with his hands, Justin was crashing through a nearby display. Glass shattered in every direction, glittering the floor like paved crystal.

"What in tarnation?" Vic exclaimed as he entered the store from the back storage room. "Damn it fellas, that's enough. Enough!" He shouted, sitting the box he'd been carrying down on the counter then took in the scene.

He was grateful Deb had had an appointment with the Doc today. As he examined the remains of what once had been her favorite sundae bowls, he sighed heavily. These boys should've been even more grateful for the redhead's absence.

The store had been in the Grassi family for generations. They provided Hazlehurst with everything from french fries to pharmaceuticals. All of that, was no doubt about to change just as soon as the new, something they called a supermarket, opened up just down the way. _'What kind of a name was Piggly Wiggly anyway?' _Vic almost smiled but caught himself when he noticed the four boys staring at him, eyes full of worry.

He was a little irritated, but not completely angry. Vic was mostly concerned about losing customers with childish fights breaking out in the middle of the place. They couldn't afford any loss of business this summer.

Michael had been friends with Brian Kinney since they were too small to talk. It was times like these that he'd wished they'd have stayed mute.

He knew Brian was a nice kid, misunderstood but kindhearted. It pained him to see him fight with the Taylor boy. They used to all be inseparable. Though he wasn't sure when that changed, he had his own suspicions as to why Brian harbored so much anger…especially toward the adorable blond boy.

He let his eyes grace the four teens, then moved to help Justin up. He shot a nod to Ben and Michael, "You two, out." he ordered.

"You two," he looked first at Taylor, then at Kinney "sit your behinds down."

Neither boy protested and they each took a stool.

"I don't pretend to know what's goin' on with you boys lately, but I certainly don't take kindly to ya'll wreckin' my store." he lectured firmly.

Hazel and blue found a sudden fascination in their shoes.

"Now, I've known you youngins since you were born. I know you used to be friendly and get along. I'll be darned if you're not going to do it again if it kills ya." Vic continued to explain that they would be reporting to him every morning for a week at seven a.m. to work off the damages to his inventory.

It wasn't a suggestion.

Both boys mumbled a version of an apology and went to join their friends outside.

"I really don't like you anymore." Justin mumbled under his breath as they neared the door.

"Who does?" Brian shrugged nonchalantly. Confident on the outside. Inside, Justin's words were stinging every inch of him.

Scowls and pushing elbows accompanied them across the threshold.

"This is just swell. Thanks a lot Kinney." Justin grumbled.

Brian, to the surprise of everyone (himself especially) didn't have a flippant comeback.

Quietly, he mounted his bike and rode off. Pedaling with strenuous vigor. The playing cards in his tire spokes flapped in time with his pounding anger. It was almost alive, he could feel it thumping through his veins.

'_Where was he headed?' _He hadn't a clue in hell. All he knew was that he needed to get as far away from Justin Taylor as fast as possible. Away from that attitude, that _smile_.

He shook his head and increased his speed, ignoring Michael's shouts behind him to '_slow down_'. He pushed forth and tried like hell to ignore the part of himself that was growing excited at the prospect of spending the next week with one fucking infuriating blond.

Even with his muscular legs he wasn't going fast enough. With that thought he'd decided on a destination. He turned right on Conway Street, the direction of Sam's Salvage yard.

He had just recently gotten his license, so the sooner he got his motorcycle running, the farther he could go. _'Would he stop at the edge of town or leave this place entirely?' _He didn't know, but for now the latter sounded like a dream.

A touch stunned, Justin stared off at the brunet until long after his form was no longer visible.

Mr. Vic had been right. Two years ago he and Brian had actually been close friends; possibly the best of. Sometimes (though not often) Justin allowed himself to ponder their past.

He had never been able to pinpoint the exact moment that everything had turned to shit.

He did not know that Brian _could_.

They'd finished the eighth grade, then that summer they sort of broke off into two groups of friends.

He had loveable bookworm Ben and Emmett, the older but super friendly senior. Brian Kinney had the ever present Michael and his little 'Hazlehurst Berry Princess' Lindsay.

'_The two had been going steady for about…just as long as he and Justin hadn't been friends.' _Justin had never made that connection before, not that it mattered. He and Kinney would never again be the best of buds.

Seemingly overnight Brian had grown to hate him, and Justin had never learned why. Afraid to hear the answer, he too had never been brave enough to ask.

Kinney began presenting himself as some sort of _God_, too good for the likes of Justin. The blond's best defense mechanism to prevent further hurt was to just stop giving a shit about Brian-goddamn-Kinney. Up until now, he had thought he'd done a fairly successful job not caring.

Now however, a myriad of emotions feverishly churned inside him. He didn't know how he felt about having to spend the next week in the presence of 'His Holiness'.


	2. Yesterday's Friend

Brian was grateful for the setting sun; digging for parts in the junk yard in it's scorching rays had exhausted him.

His tremendous effort to not think about Taylor had drained him even further.

Although it was still hot, he enjoyed the extraction of humidity that accompanied nightfall.

As he parked his bike in the garage, he paused a moment just to soak in the quiet. He knew once he set foot in the Kinney home it'd be anything but peaceful.

He entered the kitchen through the garage door. His stomach instantly ached at the scent of cornbread baking in the oven. _'Thank you Claire.'_ he thought and eagerly dipped a wooden spoon into the pinto beans that simmered on the stove.

He was grateful for his older sister's nurturing. If not for her, he might never have known what the word meant. Certainly Ol' Jack and Saint Joan hadn't been the most nurturing of nurturers.

"Hey Kiddo." Claire's voice sang, entering the room carrying in something from the pantry.

Brian smiled and winced a little.

"What happened to your face?" his sister asked worriedly examining him.

He tried to push her hands away, to no avail. He eventually stopped struggling and let her look. He'd seen the cut earlier himself in one of the scrap yard's discarded mirrors. The afternoon's flying glass had found his face. It didn't hurt much.

"It looks worse than it is." he grumbled, more focused on his hunger than his wound. "I'm starving Claire." he said sternly and gently past through the girl's probing hands. She nodded and began piling catfish onto a plate. Passing over the greens, Brian snagged a hush-puppy from the inviting bowl and took a seat at the table.

"You fighting again?" she inquired.

Before he could tell her his go to lie of 'Of course not', he heard his father's voice.

His entire body went rigid. His muscles relaxed with Jack's chuckle.

"That's my boy. Stand up for yourself." he said with a proud pat to Brian's shoulder.

"Oh Daddy, don't encourage violence." Claire lectured. The irony of her request to Ol' Jack was not lost on Brian.

On Jack either, he ignored her.

Brian sent his father an empty smile. It was always such a chore to assess and guess Jack's moods. Brian was already tired.

He'd learned long ago that there were two Jack Kinneys.

One with liquor and one without.

He'd learned the two were _very_ different men.

He'd learned so the hard way.

Relieved of tonight's father... sitting, eating, smiling, Brian dug into his dinner.

His eyes glanced at the clock above the stove, almost eight. Right on cue his mother came into the kitchen dressed in her Sunday best.

"Mass again?" Jack asked, disappointed.

Joan smiled, something about it made Brian queasy. He could never tell when Joan's smiles were genuine.

Her hand lightly touched the cut on Brian's face. She made a disapproving noise with her tongue and sighed. "Dear boy, causing trouble again. I'll pray for you." she whispered, then kissed him on the cheek. Her sherry scented breath almost made him lose his appetite.

"Thank You." he'd answered what he knew she'd needed to hear. But, in truth, Brian hadn't believed in prayers for a while now. They were right up there somewhere with wishes and make believe.

He'd not always been so...realistic.

There was once a time he used to dream, a time he'd hoped, wished and even prayed.

Nothing ever came from any of it.

That was St. Joan, model mother, helpful citizen, dutiful church goer. Yes, Joan Kinney lived in her own reality where denial ran rampant. Where she didn't let her husband hit their kids and liquor was only for cooking.

Soon she was out the door, off to drown her guilt in alcohol and prayer.

"Hey Bri, I need groceries from Grassi's. Could you please place the order for me tomorrow? I've got to be at the pool." Claire smiled.

Claire had been a lifeguard for the past two summers, but she'd been guarding Brian's life for much longer.

Before he answered, he stole a quick glance of his father. Jack was wiping his mouth and stretching. As predicted, just seconds later, he thanked Claire for supper, took a beer from the fridge and headed into the living room.

Brian met his sister's eyes and lowered his voice. He explained to her that he'd go to Vic's tomorrow, and every other day for the next week.

She embraced her brother and pinky swore she wouldn't tell their parents. _'The poor kid didn't need any more trouble.'_ she concluded.

"Go wash up and get to bed young man." she teased, swatting his butt with the dish rag she held.

He smiled, so did Claire. Brian felt the calmest he had all day. He liked that his sister's smiles were _always_ genuine.

After washing away the day, Brian headed to his room. He paused at his door to adjust one of the many family portraits that had fallen crooked.

The angle was appropriate in Brian's opinion. Much more fitting than the pristine, shiny frames that displayed their lies. Beneath most of the photos, rested holes in the drywall, the exact size of Jack's fist.

Nevertheless, he straightened the picture and entered his room, locking the door behind him. Just in case Jack's previous beers prompted a late night appearance.

Dragging his feet, suddenly more tired than he'd realized, the brunet got into bed. He lain staring at the ceiling for a minute, then looked at the clock.

Eleven p.m., eight hours from now he'd have to face the face that hadn't left his mind all day. He wished he was already asleep so Taylor would leave his brain alone.

Yesterday's friend was today's annoyance.

He was sentenced to five days in hell. Five tortuous days with that smile.

A smile that once always lit his day, brighter than the sun. Like the damn kid had found a stray broken sun ray and adhered it to his face. A smile, that he would never admit he'd missed. Wouldn't. Couldn't.

The world had been much darker these days.

_'And he better not come waltzing into his dreams either; his dance card was full.'_ Brian's final thought formed before he fell head first into his dream...where Justin waited to dance.

* * *

><p>"Eleven O'clock." Justin read his bedside clock aloud.<p>

He'd been trying to fall asleep for an hour now. It was no use. His anxious body wasn't going to allow him a moments peace.

He thought back, for likely the millionth time, about Brian Kinney's perfect torso outlined in trees as he rode away today.

Certainly everything was much easier when the brunet was farthest away, but in just eight hours he'd be frighteningly close.

_Too_ close for one week.

A fact for which his mother hadn't been too pleased to learn at dinner.

_'I swear that boy, always bullying you sweetheart. I should call his mother.'_ Jen had said earlier in their perfectly picturesque dining room.

_'Call his mommy? Christ.'_ Justin could think of nothing he wanted less.

He'd been relieved when Molly and his dad had both convinced her that calling Brian's mom would only make things worse. Regardless, he was still sentenced to five days in hell. Five tortuous days with those eyes.

Eyes that Justin could draw in his sleep, could color with his memory. Brian's beautiful eyes that never saw anything they didn't want to. Eyes that showed even less than they saw.

Something ached a little, deep within Justin. He ignored it and let his own eyes fall closed, reflecting rich hazel ones on the surface of his dreams.


	3. Considerate

As he pulled up to the familiar house with the familiar black door, Justin recalled the days he used to walk through it everyday after school.

He lowered his head, perhaps subconsciously mourning the loss of friendship.

Yesterday's friend was today's annoyance.

Admittedly it hadn't been that bad with Brian so far today. Mr. Vic and Ms. Debbie had kept the boys busy. Too busy to be bothered by each other.

The blond had been eager to volunteer when Vic had asked for help with grocery delivery. A task he was sure Brian had wanted. The boy had even tried to take the sack of food right from his hands._ 'No doubt, an excuse to go back to his house and kill some time.'_ Brian Kinney was selfish.

However, the morning had been easy enough. They'd had minimal opportunity to exchange words through phony smiles, that appeased the bosses.

Brian's house was the final of three deliveries. He was in no hurry to rush back to the store, though he knew he'd promised to return before one O'clock.

He removed the bag from the basket on his bicycle, and knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again.

He started to whistle the new Elvis tune while he waited for a response. Several notes later, he heard shuffled movement on the other side of the entryway to his past.

When she opened the door Justin was hit hard by the stench of alcohol. His own parents didn't touch the stuff, but his Papaw always brought Brandy when he came to Sunday supper.

Joan Kinney eyed the blond suspiciously, her tossed hair and smudged make-up told Justin she'd just awakened from what was likely a liquor induced nap.

"Brian's not here." she said carelessly, "Damn kids out, being somebody else's problem. No doubt embarrassing me." she added into the air.

Justin felt a much unexpected pang of sympathy for yesterday's friend.

He searched his memory but couldn't remember Brian's mama ever drinking in the middle of the day. Either way it was not his business.

Emmett's Aunt Lula always told him_ 'Nosy noses know nothing true. Rumors and gossip were the language of the inconsiderate.'_

Justin was always considerate.

Joan began to close the door when Justin halted her with his hand and smile. "I have your groceries Mrs. Kinney." he explained.

Her hard features softened, though only just. Her tight mouth formed a smile that didn't warm Justin in the slightest.

She took the food from him and retrieved his tip of a quarter from her apron pocket. Something told him the garment was merely part of a costume. He'd never seen Joan Kinney cook.

Peddling back to Grassi's, Justin felt a little guilty for mentally accusing Brian of wanting to sneak out of work to hang at home. After seeing his mother, Justin could safely assume Brian would rather be at work.

Any sympathy he may have felt on the short bike ride back to the store, vanished as soon as he'd returned.

He attempted to make the best of their situation by offering a "Hey." and a smile. To neither of which the brunet responded or even acknowledged.

_'This would be the longest week in history if they weren't going to be speaking.'_ Justin concluded, irritated at Brian's arrogance.

The diner counter was opening late today, Ms. Debbie was dropping off food over at Sheriff Horvath's office. Making use of the for now, empty counter top, Justin gently set out the contents of the lunch his mama had made him.

Being seated at the counter put him closer to Brian than either of them had wanted. Close enough that Justin heard the unmistakable sound of Brian's growling stomach. Having seen Joan today, it was no surprise that the brunet had no lunch of his own.

Justin was always considerate.

He picked up his green apple and silently held it out to Brian. Hazel eyes examined the offering, practically salivating. "I don't need anything from you." his stubbornness told the blond sternly.

His harsh tone left Justin a bit taken aback. "Damn it, you make it near impossible to be nice to you." Justin retorted in a huff, but quickly put his temper in check.

Justin was stubborn too.

He carefully tore his turkey sandwich in half and counted out his peanut butter crackers into two even piles.

Brian watched those pale hands intently.

Wordlessly, Justin slid the apple, sandwich and crackers in front of Brian. Then returned to his own meal. He couldn't stop the small smile from curving his lips as he saw, from the corner of his eye, Brian's slender hands pick up the sandwich.

The two boys ate in silence.

Later, when Brian made his way to the trash bin, Justin thought he heard, though couldn't be sure, a softly whispered ''Thank you.''

He had intended to begin a conservation with the brunet when the bell above the door rang out. "Joy." Justin whispered, rolling his eyes to himself.

An excited Michael came rushing up to the counter ahead of Deb, Little Miss Berry Princess behind them. Deb and Lindsay offered a sweet hello, Mikey ignored him completely.

"Boy is it some kinda hot out there." Mikey griped, helping himself to a drink behind his mother's counter.

"How's my Soda Jerk?" Lindsay practically cooed and kissed her boyfriend's cheek.

Justin nearly gagged at the entire exchange.

Brian's eyes caught Justin watching him, instantly they darkened. He felt the urge to pull Lindsay closer and sent something like a sneer to Justin. He wasn't even sure why. In truth, he'd prefer if both she and Michael left.

"Well, she's got the jerk part right." Justin said not at all under his breath, and walked to the pharmacy shelves to begin unpacking the new box the post man had brought. He continued to stock the shelf, trying hard to ignore Lindsay's giggles and Brian's words.

His mood lifted when he heard his pal Emmett's voice. "Hey blond baby." he teased.

Justin blushed a bit and looked to see if anyone had heard his friend's greeting. Michael and Lindsay were chatting with Ms. Debbie. Kinney however, was looking directly at him.

"Can we help you?" Justin snapped with an irritation he didn't know he'd felt until it escaped with his words.

Instead of the predicted rudeness Justin had expected, Brian said nothing. He just shifted his eyes quickly away. _'Almost...embarrassed? No. Kinney didn't do humility. Of this, Justin was sure.'_

Emmett watched Justin watch Brian watching them.

Although he had come there to pick up the new '16' magazine, since he and Justin had practically worn the Elvis diary issue back to tree pulp; he had also come here to check up on his friend.

Brian had hurt Justin with more than just his fists. Though Emmett himself didn't know the kid too well, Justin had insisted Brian had good in him.

Aunt Lula always told him to look beneath the surface to find true depth. Obviously Brian Kinney's surface looked good, he hoped for Justin's sake his heart did too.

The blond was naive, but smart.

Emmett was no dummy either. In fact, he knew more about Brian than the kid himself.

He'd been there. He hadn't ever mentioned his assessment to Justin, but he bet it was a safe bet that Brian Kinney fought more with his himself than he did with Justin. The Ol' 'pull the girl's pigtails before you kiss her' scenario.

He felt beaded sweat begin to seep down from his forehead, he brought his hand up to fan his face. "Goodness Gracious, it's a scorcher today." Both Justin and Brian heard Emmett exclaim.

Justin, because he was in front of the older boy. Brian, because he was eavesdropping.

_'Why did he even care what Taylor and his fruity friend were talking about? He didn't.'_ he decided. He was bored, that was reason enough. Mikey and Lindz were eating ice cream and ignoring him anyway. _'Thankfully.'_

Brian told himself he had zero interest in the other kid's discussion. A fact that would've been true had he not just heard Honeycutt mention he and Justin going to the swimming hole.

Suddenly he flashed back to a time when he and Justin had spent the entire day there. Swinging from the rope, practicing fancy dives from the sturdy branch of the nearby oak tree. That day, full of real laughter and wet bodies, seemed a lifetime ago.

His sense had no time to catch up to his words. Before he knew it, they spilled excitedly from his lips. "You're right Mikey, it's really hot. I'm thinkin' it's the perfect day for a swim."


	4. Dripping Wet,Wagered Bet

"Next week issue #114 comes out! Superman's billion dollar debt!" Michael chatted excitedly. "Can you imagine a billion bucks? He'll have to mow a lot of lawns." he attempted to joke.

Brian gave his best effort at a laugh as he swept a branch from his face. The swimming hole was just over this small hill. Already he could hear water splashing.

He could also hear Justin's laughter if he let himself truly listen.

He didn't.

He nudged his best friend lightly, "Who needs Superman when you've got me Lois?" He sent a sideways smile to his sidekick.

"Why am I always Lois Lane?" Mikey grumbled, before both friends laughed in unison.

Four trees and several bushes later, they reached the cleared opening to the lake. Years of traipsing through these woods had worn a beaten path. Each step added a memory to a childhood almost gone.

Brian's laughter halted first. Michael followed his gaze and made a sound of exasperation. "Just swell, _they're_ here."

Indeed they were.

Brian made a sound too, though his, was hard to identify and prompted a strange look from Michael. Something like a gasp but not quite a groan. He cleared his throat and tried to pretend he hadn't heard it.

"So. We'll just ignore em'." Brian said with the best phony indifference he could muster.

In all actuality, he knew it would be the accomplishment of the century if he could ignore Justin Taylor.

Ignore the fact that he was wet, glistening in sun beams, and naked.

Very, truly, completely naked.

By now, Mikey too had made that assessment, though his reaction was a bit different. Brian forced himself to look away from the water where Justin laughed and splashed with Emmett and Ben, and looked at a grinning Michael Novotny.

Brian immediately recognized the fabric he held towards him. They were the clothes Taylor'd worn to work today. He did his best not to dwell on the fact that he knew such a thing. The fact that he also knew the blue and green striped shirt was the blond's favorite.

Regardless, seeing the clothes in Mikey's hands just reiterated that Taylor wasn't wearing them.

Down below, creamy pale skin embraced the lake, smoothly churning water caressed him.

There went that damn noise again. Something surely was stuck in his throat; he cleared it again.

"What luck!" Mikey chimed mischievously.

"Hmm?" Brian answered absentmindedly, taking too long to look away from the water and back to Lois.

As quickly as Brian registered his friend's intentions Michael's voice echoed through the trees. "Hey Boy Wonder!" he called down to the skinny dippers.

Brian watched as shock registered on Ben's face, embarrassment on Emmett's. He didn't look at Justin's.

Micheal laughed obnoxiously waving their clothes in the air. "You want these? Come and get em'!" he yelled through louder laughter.

Brian did his best to offer an approving chuckle. It was fairly pathetic.

Emmett and Ben yelled up at them, Justin however was no longer in the water at all.

Nope. He was currently climbing the hill toward them.

Very, truly, completely naked.

The kid was fit to be tied too. His face was tense, spittin' mad.

Brian didn't dare look at anything else. But, his eyes defiantly accepted the challenge; they determinedly looked at everything _except_ his face.

Beads of water cascaded down the length of his body.

His very, truly, completely naked body.

Tiny rainbows reflected sunlight in each shimmering drop. His blond hair darkened by wetness, his blue eyes darkened by anger. The sunlight danced on his skin.

Brian's eyes were transfixed on the view.

Justin appeared to follow the sun rays as he walked. '_No._' The more he watched the more Brian became convinced, it was the sun that followed _him_.

Undoubtedly in an attempt to learn the secret of his light. His sunshine, Brian knew, resided in the boy's smile.

A smile that seemed only a figment of his imagination at the moment. A distant memory. So far lost he was not positive he hadn't dreamed it.

A smile that right now had no intention of showing itself on Justin's hardened, furious face.

"Aw, what's the matter Sunshine?" he teased the nickname in a voice that sounded just mocking enough to hide it's secret sincerity.

Before Justin reached them, Mikey tossed Brian Justin's shorts. His reflexes did their job.

The fabric felt heavy in his hands. Weighted somehow to his stomach, that was currently sinking to his feet.

Michael had probably expected the boys to curse, maybe even cry. Taylor wasn't doing either. Though, Brian felt _he_ might do both when the blond all too soon stood but inches from him.

His earlier cooperative reflexes failed him now. He didn't move a muscle as Taylor yanked the shorts from his suspiciously trembling hands.

"Christ Taylor, put em' on quickly." Michael groaned, making an exasperated sound of disgust.

Brian was feeling some feelings of his own. Disgust was not among them.

He pushed them deep down, hopefully far enough to join his tummy in his toes.

Justin paused his annoyance long enough to pull on his shorts. He did not however break eye contact with Brian. At least not immediately.

There was something there, buried beneath the brunet that almost resembled yesterday's friend. Back when Brian and he shared secrets, and smiles.

Seeing that boy from the past made Justin both sad and suddenly embarrassed. Certainly they'd all seen each other in the nude before, the locker rooms, pool house, here at the swimming hole.

Though, then they had be friends. Now, Brian was practically a stranger. It was for that reason that a rush of bashful blood flooded his face. It added for extra heat in the already hot day.

He wanted to go back in the water. Wanted to ignore Brian and Michael._ 'Who did they think they were anyway?'_

Without a word, he turned on his heels to head back to the creek, when Emmett and Ben approached them.

As Ben walked, his briefs clung to his body, accentuating his muscles. For a square who loved to study, he could've easily passed for school jock.

Emmett walked none too confidently, he too had been unclothed in the water. Justin stifled a giggle watching him slowly approach holding some sort of plant in front of himself. All the while hoping it wasn't poison ivy.

Emmett didn't say a word. He just sighed heavily and extended his hand, palm up, to Micheal who quickly gave him his clothes. Justin was surprised at Brian and Mikey's lack of added teasing. It was unlike these two to give up so easily. They were picking a fight after all.

Albeit, the changing glint in Michael's eyes as he tossed Ben a towel had not gone unnoticed by Justin. His own eyes had often done the same, whenever they saw the hazel ones that invaded his dreams.

Ben on the the other hand had seen no such look. He was riled up. "What's your problem? We were just swimming." he defended.

"We're here, it's our turn." Michael retorted as if it should have been common knowledge.

"You don't own the creek, You're beggin' for a lickin'!" Ben wrung his hands together and took a step forward. Michael visibly gulped and took a step back. Ben was much taller than the little Novotny with the big mouth.

"Let's make a wager. Winner gets to swim here. Loser has to go to the community pool, all summer." Mikey suggested.

Brian's eyes flickered with intrigue, he'd always loved dares. He'd always loved bets. Both of which stood in direct contrast with his unwillingness to ever take chances, or leaps of faith.

Everyone was surprised when it was Emmett who spoke next, sternly. "Name your terms."

Michael grinned goofily, then fulfilled Honeycutt's request. "Tomorrow, we spend the whole night in Shickle Manor. First ones to get scared and leave, loses." he stated all business.

Justin felt a touch nervous. Shickle Manor was the place nightmares were born, and ghost tales came to life. Not that he believed in that sort of thing.

The house used to belong to George Shickle, heir to 'Shickle's Pickles', The pickles Mississippi people preferred. It had stood empty for as long as they could remember. Abandoned by the breathing, inhabited by the dead.

Everyone knew the story...

Mr. Shickle was in the war, came home early, went mad some say. His new wife even left him, afraid he'd kill her in her sleep. After his homecoming, George never left the house.

Most believed he died there.

Some even say, he's still inside.

Each boy present had grown up with the legend. The fear of the unknown, the dark and the abandoned. Just as each boy present felt an icy shiver tickle their spines at the thought of spending the entire night in the haunted house of Hazlehurst.

Not that they'd said so aloud. Instead, each boy puffed out their chest, and shrugged.

"No sweat. You're on." It was Emmett who agreed.

A mischievous idea crept up on the older boy. He had not missed the reaction Brian had while Justin dressed. Sure, he stood still and acted disinterested but it was something that could be easily missed by anyone except Emmett. There was 'want' in those pretty eyes of his. Whether he knew it or not.

"One condition." he heard himself say. "We don't go in groups. Just Justin and Kinney."

Ben and Michael agreed quickly, happy to evade the night they feared.

Justin and Brian agreed with weak nods. Neither could decide which they feared more,

Spending time with ghosts...

...or spending time with just each other.


	5. Messy

Behind the counter, inside Grassi's general store, stood a boy who wouldn't blink.

Brian had convinced himself that the slightest sliver of a shut would project the image he didn't want.

He couldn't view again...

...Justin Taylor. Very, truly, completely naked.

The shaded skin beneath his tired eyes were the shadows cast by the memory of that bare body.

The blond had been giving him the silent treatment today; something he wasn't sure he liked. He wasn't sure he didn't. Apparently still peeved by Mikey's taunts yesterday.

Now, he heard Justin speaking to Mr. Vic, though he couldn't process words. His body focused solely on the pleasing octave of that voice.

The voice that wasn't speaking to him.

_'No, he was sure he was happy about that.'_ He attempted to convince himself, as a voice that wasn't Taylor's reached him.

"Honey, I think that's good." Deb's laugh pulled him from his thoughts.

Finally relenting that he'd see the blond, eyes open or not, he let them close briefly. Once again open, he glanced down and noticed what Ms. Debbie had meant.

"Oh." he said almost embarrassed and rushed to stop pouring the now, overflowing rootbeer float he'd been preparing for the day's final customer.

He watched the liquid cascade over his hands, forming a small puddle on the floor.

Deb placed her hand softly on his shoulder, "It's okay kid, I'll get him a new one." she smiled and retrieved another bottle of soda from the icebox.

He continued to wipe the remnants of rootbeer away, loathing the sticky feel it left on his hands.

_'His discomfort was all Taylor's fault._'

As far as Brian was concerned, Justin had been the cause of most of the messes he'd encountered.

He'd spilled that damn smile of his into his life and never cleaned it up. It ran rampant, spreading. Seeping into nooks and crannies Brian couldn't reach.

Justin was messy. Brian was a terrible housekeeper.

He wrung the sopping rag out over the sink, and tossed it over his shoulder. He had an unsuccessful go at washing Taylor's name from his brain whilst he scrubbed his hands.

"You boys play nice now." Vic's voice warned. Confused, Brian's eyes went to the direction the voice had come. The owner hadn't been addressing him. It had been a warning sent to the blond, and resident bully Chris Hobbs.

Hobbs was doing what he did best, picking on Justin.

Although Brian couldn't make out the phrases of the conversation, he could tell by the blond's face, they weren't compliments.

Chris insulted the blond on a regular basis. It was something that made the brunet feel his hands clench into fists.

Sure, he himself picked on Justin, often._ 'But, he was allowed to because...well, just because.'_

One of Hobbs' words found Brian easily. "Queer."

That group of letters seemed to crudely assault him. He had not been prepared to hear them.

He witnessed the pain of that word register in blue.

An inexplicable need to stay still and silent overwhelmed him. If he intervened, that tainted word would attach to him.

Everyone knew Honeycutt was the 'Big Q' of Hazlehurst. There'd also been whispers but never speech, that Justin was too.

People talked in this small town. Talked too damn much in Brian's opinion.

He'd long ago been labeled 'Kinney's delinquent' . He'd never admit their assessment saddened him. He'd always pretended he didn't care what anyone thought of him. Albeit, it had never been effortless. No one would ever know how hard it was to make it look so easy, but he'd become good at pretending. He almost believed it himself.

Truth was, that was the truth...mostly.

There were in fact four people's perceptions of him that Brian Kinney cared about.

Mikey, Claire, the Jack without liquor, and the littel blond dream bringer on the other side of the store.

Brian surprised himself with the feel of his fingernails under his palms. He was growing increasingly angry at any and every person that dared think a bad thought about someone, so kind, so considerate, so..._beautiful._

You see, it was thoughts like that, that had kept Brian up all night, afraid to fall asleep.

Even more afraid that he couldn't distinguish the reason.

Had he feared seeing a naked Justin in his dreams, or had he feared he'd lose the memory in the dark?

_'What was his problem? Justin was ignoring him anyway. Good.'_ He acted busy with the cash register, needing something other than the other boys to focus on. Unable to do so, he looked back in their direction.

For a moment he caught Justin's eyes. He held his gaze longer than he'd liked, before he flickered to Hobbs. Part of Brian had wanted to go over and tell the boy to knock it off, to leave Justin be. A bigger part, a crueler part, offered a small smirk at the situation.

It had been instinctive. He knew it'd piss the blond off. He'd done it still.

_'This was funny to him?'_ an infuriated Justin thought at Brian's smirk.

Having met his quota for asshole moments of the day, Hobbs had left. Although Justin was tough, he was admittedly intimidated by the larger teen. The boy never left him alone when they ran into one another. An event that happened often, one that the blond was not entirely convinced was coincidental. It seemed to him, like Chris sought him out to torment him.

His bullying, though undeniably more threatening, still affected him less than Brian's. Now, the brunet had practically smiled.

Condoning Chris' misguided ignorance and unprovoked anger.

That fact guided Justin's anger straight at Kinney.

The boy of his dreams could certainly be a nightmare.

_'Stupid Brian. Stupid Hobbs.'_ He mentally shouted, all the while feeling a tightening in his chest. It was a suffocating grip much different than when Brian gripped and twisted his heart. Air soon became a luxury, as his aching lungs struggled to obtain it.

His asthma often worsened when he was mentally or physically exerted. He frantically patted his pockets, only to confirm his fear, he'd forgotten the medicine vial for his inhaler.

Gasping now in between broken wheezes, his eyes swept the store. To his intense disappointment, both Ms. Debbie and Mr. Vic were still outside disassembling the produce stand in front of the store.

Out of options and out of air, he turned and stumbled toward the only person who could help him.

The very_ last_ person Justin wanted to be indebted to.

Brian had finished cleaning up for the day. After he'd ticked Justin off with his expression, he'd made a conscious effort to avoid further contact. He was more than positive he didn't want to see any counter expression or gesture Justin may have sent him.

It was now impossible to ignore him. Brian's senses competed to assess what was going on. Justin was fumbling toward him, frantically grabbing at his throat, tugging at his shirt. No sound spilled from his lips.

Justin's panic absorbed into Brian; absorbed deep into the marrow of his bones.

Instantly, he knew this blond was having an asthma attack. He'd seen it only once before.

A time before feelings trampled on their friendship. Before Justin started making messes.

A time that seemed far in the past, yet right within reach. The longest yesterday.

The boy's loss of breath had Brian himself finding it hard to breathe.

Still, the image of Justin dancing that day, the scent of a summer lost lingered in his mind.

The two of them had been playing in the tree house in Brian's backyard. A product of one of Ol' Jack's brief attempts at sobering up. He'd actually agreed to allow the boys to build the house in his backyard, he'd even bought their supplies.

There'd been so many of those attempted moments, though none ever lasted longer than it took the old man to finish a six pack.

Brian and Justin had spent many a day and night in that wooden sanctuary. None of the other boys were ever really invited. It was a place for them. Away from the world outside.

One day Brian had watched in awe as Justin's skillful hands painted a sign for their escape in the tree.

Up high from Hazlehurst. Carefree with the birds and the endless sky. The sign had read 'Britin'.

Making it theirs for eternity.

Sadly, as the boy's had learned; eternities weren't as long as they used to be.

Brian and Justin had been shamelessly inventing the next new dance craze that would surely get them a stint on 'American Bandstand'.

It had been fun, genuine.

Right up until something triggered an aggressive attack.

The brunet had decided then that the sound of Justin's struggled breath was the worst he'd ever heard.

Brian almost lost himself in the image of Justin's swaying form in that memory. Luckily, Justin's current wheezing form pulled him back. It sounded worse than that day in the tree house.

Justin had been ignoring Brian all day. It was impossible now for him to do so.

Any ill thoughts or feelings he may have felt for the brunet, vanished the second he felt the boy's arms encircle his waist. Their gentle warmth soothed and confused him. Brian's careful grip guided the blond to the nearest stool.

His panic was visible in both his eyes and his voice.

Eyes that glanced frantically around the store.

Eyes that appeared to ease slightly when they'd found the pharmacy counter.

Eyes that in that moment, Justin could see a glimmer of the past. _His_ Brian. The new was wearing off and the old was shining through.

"Your inhaler?" Brian inquired, sounding in need of breathing assistance himself. Justin could only manage to shake his head.

Feeling helpless, yet determined, Brian ran to the pharmacy counter. His speed slipped him up, almost pulling him to the ground. He remembered that Mrs. Taylor always filled her son's prescription at Grassi's. He rummaged through the seemingly endless supply of medications. At last finding Taylor's bag, he hurried back to the blond.

He retrieved the small bottle of compressed medicine and scrambled to pour it into the unfamiliar contraption. This new inhaler had just hit the shelves. At the moment, Brian was overtly grateful for Jen Taylor's over-protectiveness.

He placed the mask over Justin's nose and mouth, and gingerly began pumping the medication into Justin's airway.

Brian's nerves returned to normal with the other boy's steady breaths.

The sound of Justin breathing was now decidedly among his favorite things to hear.

The pain in Justin's lungs eased, though a tightness still tugged in his chest. This one had nothing to do with asthma.

He watched Brian fill a glass of water and offer it to him. Warily, he took it but didn't immediately take a sip. He instead examined the brunet before him.

_'Why now, had he cared about his well being? Certainly the boy had never cared about his heart, so why the worry about his lungs?'_

Justin almost felt angered by the brunet's audacity to give a shit.

This was yet another piece of the very complex Brian Kinney. Anyone else would be incapable of constructing him.

Placing the pieces correctly together, revealing the whole picture.

A Kinney complete.

But, Justin wasn't anyone, and he was exceedingly good at puzzles.

Once his breathing returned to normal, Justin busied himself, putting his inhaler away.

The boys stood for a minute in an awkward silence. The blond knew that Brian hated 'Thank yous'. He did sometimes hand them out, but scarcely accepted them. Gratitude made him uncomfortable.

Blue eyes looked around for a subject change, which he'd found on Debbie's blackboard. "Today's special: Chicken. Sounds perfect for ya." he chimed aloud, prying into the quiet.

He curved his lips into a grin he gave to Brian, who raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Eat the chicken today, _be_ the chicken tonight." he finished with a challenging click of his tongue, and began to make a clucking noise.

"We'll see." Brian retorted, with a hint of his own smile. Relieved that Justin was no longer visibly ill, Brian relaxed...a little.

He'd been thankful that Taylor hadn't been thankful, at least not aloud. It always continued to surprise him just how well Justin knew him. Too well. He hated every bit of it.

But he was Brian-goddamn-Kinney, and he still had a secret or two. Some he'd never even told himself.

Although the sight of the blond now imitating a ghost was, he'd admit, amusing, Justin had been wrong about the night's prediction.

_'Brian didn't do scared.'_ A fact he'd spend the next few hours leading up to spending the night with Justin Taylor, convincing himself of.

In a darkened house, haunted by Shickle's ghost, and his own past.

Peering out from his thoughts, he caught a flash of Taylor's smile.

Brian felt something, but it wasn't fear.


	6. Twisted

Brian and Michael had arrived just moments after Justin and his friends. The summer sky seemingly grew darker as they approached.

Displaying it's final blue, before black erased the day. The earlier faint stars now peppered the night with brightly twinkling wishes.

The blond wished he'd been anywhere else. He was however relieved to see that Lindsay hadn't joined them. Not that it'd mattered, she'd not have come inside anyway. The rules had already been set. Soon it'd be just him and Kinney.

Their friends planned to camp outside, just in case Brian or Justin tried to chicken out. Each boy had told their parents they'd be spending the night at each other's houses.

Each boy, except for Brian.

Confident that neither, St. Joan or Ol' Jack would notice his absence; he only told told Claire. He hadn't attempted to be dishonest, not with Claire. She always knew when he was lying. He was grateful no one else could decipher his truths.

Justin normally never lied, but this night was an exception. He knew Jennifer Taylor would not have her only son fumbling around in such an unsafe environment.

Shickle Manor loomed above the boys.

It's grandeur almost hid the moon; sketching the house and it's trees against the sky. Cloaked in the shadows of nightfall, the scene resembled one of Justin's charcoal drawings.

Heavy vines wrapped the walls, seemingly holding the dilapidated structure together.

As the clouds rolled above him, wisps of grey against the night; Justin half expected them to unleash a storm.

No thunder clapped in warning.

_'Get a grip Justin.'_ he told himself,_ 'This wasn't a horror flick. Nothing was going to hurt him.'_

With that reassurance loosely in place, his eyes unconsciously went to Brian. Whose own eyes met his before quickly shifting back to the group of talking teens.

Maybe it was the dark, maybe it wasn't; but they seemed...warm. They glistened in contrast with the brunet's cold stance and tight lips.

Lips that had transfixed Justin as they slowly drew in smoke from the boy's cigarette. Brilliant orange danced in hazel.

Yet another bought of nostalgia his Justin then. Brian only smoked Marlboros, like his idol James Dean.

He'd always considered Brian Kinney his own personal 'Rebel'. Rough around the edges, and beautiful.

It had been a sad day for them both when the actor had passed. It was one of the last times the boys had hung out as friends. They'd spent the day reminiscing their favorite Dean moments and laughing.

Brian's laughter echoed in Justin's mind. _'God, he missed that sound.'_

Although their gaze had met only briefly, it'd been long enough to have the blond re-thinking his previous assessment.

_'Nothing could hurt him quite like the boy with the bi-polar eyes.'_

"It's seriously dark, are you seriously going to go in there?" Mikey's voice greeted Brian almost startling him.

"Seriously, can we stop saying seriously?" the brunet asked still mentally a mile away. He was sure his friend had been talking before that question but he hadn't heard it.

He'd been too busy trying to be anywhere else.

He'd lit a cigarette, hoping to inhale a fantasy of being alone somewhere. Whether it would've worked or not was unclear as soon as Justin's eyes had brushed his; all surfacing thoughts evaporated.

Though Mikey was still chattering with the other boys, Brian had once more lost focus.

His mind refusing to be empty, a plethora of thoughts occupied every inch.

A wave of wonder crashed over him. Continually, he struggled desperately to keep his head above water. Not to drown in his sea of thought.

The subtle yet paralyzing jolt he'd felt at Justin's eye contact, told him that whatever awaited them in the darkness was better off hidden in Shickle's shadows.

He had zero intention on seeking it out. In fact, he'd planned on finding a room on the opposite end of the house from Justin, where he'd wait out the night...alone.

He dreaded this.

_'Almost as much as he anticipated it.'_ The thought didn't match his others.

A thought that had Brian's insides twisting like the vines on the house, like truth twisted within the gossip of Shickle's legend.

A shiver crawled up his spine in spite of the warm summer. It was an electrifying sort of feeling Brian always got when a certain blond boy was in close proximity.

The way his body tingled incessantly could confirm what Brian had already known; Justin was suddenly too damn close.

He took another drag from his Marlboro hoping to get the sensation to go up in smoke.

"Haven't you heard, smoking causes cancer and other harmful health effects?" Justin's familiar, soft voice tickled Brian's ears.

Ears he was almost sure had also heard a distinct electric crackle with the boy just a whispers width away.

The tingle began to sizzle him where he stood. Starting at his shoulder, that Justin's delicate fingers now rested on.

He could swear he could feel Taylor's pulse radiating from each tip.

Could feel their velvet touch even through the fabric of his shirt.

Could feel the skin beneath each finger burning.

Could feel Justin's hand melting into him.

Of course that was silly; not to say he wouldn't later check his shoulder for sear marks.

Face forward, Brian looked to the blond's intrusive limb from the corner of his eye. He spoke, "What are you, a public service announcement?"

Although his cigarette was not yet spent, he suddenly felt compelled to flick it to the ground.

He watched his sneaker spiral the smoke into the ground, then barely met Justin's eyes. With a sigh, he strode toward the uncertain steps. "Let's get this over with." he announced.

Crossing the threshold, both boys went blind. Endless darkness beckoned to them from every direction.

The unrelenting blackness was perhaps the night's punishment for their constant bickering.

Justin instantly wished they'd brought flashlights.

Brian too, was no fan of the dark. He didn't care much for only being able to see his own thoughts.

He started off in the direction of what he assumed was the living room. A small shuffle let him know the blond was close behind him.

Justin squinted, and still saw nothing. Feeling nervous and, okay, a touch afraid, he decided to follow the other boy.

His hands ached to reach out, to find Brian's waist to guide him.

He didn't.

_'You couldn't trust the directions of someone as misguided as Brian Kinney.'_

That Taylor tingle tinged Brian's back.

As he used his hands to lead him through the hallway, his body almost expected to feel Justin's searching fingertips.

He gulped, trying to swallow his 'almost want' for that touch. His mouth was dry.

Exactly how close to him the blond had been to Brian was determined quickly; when a thunderous crashing sound echoed through every empty inch of the house.

Justin's legs tried to run without the rest of him, causing a head on collision with the back of Brian. He finished with a heavy thud, prompting a different type of headache than Kinney usually caused.

"Jesus Justin!" Brian scolded, rubbing the back of his neck.

The blond brushed past him, taking the lead. Brian felt significantly uneasy with his back exposed to the darkness. He pushed his way back to the front; where he belonged.

_'Justin was a scaredy cat.'_ Brian had jumped a little at the sound himself but he'd ever admit that.

Nearing the end of the hallway, a congenial light greeted them.

Silvery beams poured through the first broken window they'd encountered. A fragmented gift from the night's crescent moon.

The sky shined it's soft spotlight on a door. A strong, sturdy, safe, door.

Barely visible in the beams, both boys brought their eyes to it. Then to each other.

Silently they challenged rights to the room. Neither was winning. They stood poised at the entryway, their eyes still engaged in a muted argument.

Justin had managed to open the door slightly, when another boisterous bang startled the air.

This time, it had been Brian who jumped. His anxious feet leaping forth, causing him to push Justin through the now open door.

The boy's were unaware that the frightening sound had merely belonged to the worn shutters slamming their age against the house.

The noise was far overpowered now by the thunderous thumping of their hearts.

"I think we should stay in the same room tonight." Brian said, trying to relax. Noticing Justin's accusing look, he continued, "Not that I'm scared or nothin'. Just so I can keep an eye on you, make sure you don't wuss out."

A small smile played with Justin's lips. "If you say so." he said calmly, and continued further into the room.

_'He did. He did say so.'_ Brian's mind confirmed.

"Bingo! Candles!" The blond's voice carried itself into the hall.

From the archway, Brian watched the other boy strike a match. He stepped fully inside, closing the door behind him.

The strong, sturdy, safe door.

The solid wood protecting them from everything outside.

However, it did nothing to protect him from the horror that awaited him within...

...How breathtaking Justin looked by candlelight.


	7. Candlelit Memories

With the room lightly lit, the boys could see that it was still furnished.

In fact, it appeared that the entire house had stopped living when George had passed.

Nothing had gone with him, everything remained.

Brian thought it peculiar that no-one from such a prominant family had collected his things.

Well, not entirely true, his former wife had taken his name and his company. He supposed she hadn't bothered with anything of sentimental value.

Here, now all that remained of George Shickle, the man that time forgot, was a house full of old junk and a ghost story.

The grand library housed floor to ceiling shelves, overflowing with literature. Justin set his candle stick atop the vast wooden fireplace. It's rhythmic flame caused shadows to lightly lick the area around it.

Justin inhaled, loving the scent of old pages, leather binds and imagination. Books were among his many creative passions. He loved to read.

Brian hated reading. Needless to say, a dark, dusty old library wasn't high on his list of places to visit.

He spotted a velvet couch near the center of the room. He approached it, and noticed that like everything else, it too was covered in dust.

The way all things that had once been part of a daily routine would one day be left behind. Forgotten, and covered in dust. Even friendships.

He patted the seat with his hands, sending the layer of abandonment into the air. He coughed and covered his face. Instinctively he looked at Justin, his own piece of history, veiled by forgotten dusting.

He'd been worried his attack on the furniture would irritate Justin's asthma. It didn't. The blond had not even been paying attention to him. A fact that both pleased and plagued him simultaneously.

Brian followed the other boy the best he could in the limited light. The lone candle illuminated the room just enough to reveal his silhouette. Brian stretched his lanky body onto the sofa, eyes never leaving that blue eyed shadow.

Brian could tell that Justin was somewhere else, as he traced his dainty fingers along the spines of every book he could reach.

Another time, one that existed what seemed only yesterday and still so long ago, Justin had used to read to him.

Every sleep over, the blond would shimmy himself next to Brian in the bed and tell him one of his favorite stories. Often they'd even created their own. They'd fall asleep lost in their imaginations.

But, that was another time. That long lost, still near moment when Brian still believed in wishes, make believe and prayer.

"Anything good?" he heard himself ask.

The sound of Brian's voice startled Justin in the otherwise noiseless night.

The brunet's question came at the perfect time. He _had_ found something good.

An old letter tucked in between the pages of the smallest book on the shelf. It was folded meticulously neat, and carefully hidden. The most meaningful stories are often the ones you never share.

He held it up as close to the light as possible for Brian to see. "I think it's an old love letter." he explained, anxious to devour whatever words the paper held.

Brian yawned, "You're going to read it aloud aren't you?" he accused with feigned disinterest.

"Why? You got somethin' better to do? Hot date Kinney?" Justin teased flatly.

"The hottest." Brian confirmed, "I was hoping to spend the evening with myself."

Justin rolled his eyes and grinned.

Even in the blackened air Brian could see it. Could see the blond's reaction anytime he wanted really. All he had to do was let himself remember.

A quavering sickness moved his stomach. He despised knowing Justin Taylor so well. He tried to forget that he remembered. It helped when Justin started reading.

_'Good. He could lose himself in another's story.'_ He'd grown weary retelling his own.

_My Dearest Sydney,_

_I hope this reaches you and you are well. I worry endlessly about your safety. I pray for your return to me. I cannot express how deeply I am missing you. I'm hopelessly lost without you here to guide me. I lost much more than my leg in this senseless war. I lost my life, you. Even when I was altogether whole, I never walked confidently. Not until I found you to lean on. To support me fully and lead the way. I love the way you hold me, so warm and safe. I long to_  
><em>spend forever wrapped in your embrace. Edith has gone now. She discovered our photos and confronted me. Packed and left me. The house is tragically empty. I fear it may consume me in it's never ending darkness. Although my instincts told me to deny it, my heart advised me against it. I could not lie, it wouldn't be fair to you. I am not ashamed of us. The truth has touched me in the form your kiss. I thought I knew what it meant to love, until you. I realize now I knew nothing...<em>

Justin paused his reading and set the letter down, the ink had faded, leaving him unable to read the rest. He felt sad for the man inside the words.

"Oh please," Brian scoffed "what sappy bullshit."

Justin's sadness extended now to Brian-Careless-Kinney. _'Didn't he feel anything...ever?'_

"It's beautiful." Justin spoke, defending Shickle's words. "True love."

Brian pretended to gag, "Like I said, bullshit. Love's not real." the brunet expressed this belief more to himself than to Justin.

No one loved anyone more than they loved themselves. Even if he did buy it, not that he did, what then? Brian often wondered why nobody ever mentioned the reality. The injuries you sustain after the hard fall into love.

_'How could Brian say that? How could he not believe in love? How lonely Brian's heart must feel.'_Justin thought.

Brian saw the blond's thoughts projecting from blue and sat up. "Don't tell me you're all mushy over some guy cheating on his wife. Is that love to Sunshine?" he sounded condescending enough to satisfy himself. "This Sydney chick must've been a real looker." he added for performance value.

Justin didn't respond, instead his hands were unfolding another letter from between the pages. Without asking for permission, he began to read it aloud. He  
>almost wished he hadn't.<p>

_To my life,_

_It seems I have truly lost you. I am but a ghost of my former self. Hollow, empty. Helen recieved the telegram last week. It was so hard not to fall apart. Afterall, it's her right to mourn you, never was it mine. She is the widow, I am the secret. I cannot help myself. I've cried in spite of my rights. I died with you my sweet Sydney. I no longer have the strength to embrace this lonliness. I haven't left home upon hearing the news. Without you out there, I have_  
><em>nowhere to go. I sit here now, preparing to join you. Our picture in my hand, our love in my heart. So strong together, in death we won't end. Forever rests with you, my lover, my life, my friend.<em>

_George._

Brian saw the tears on Justin's eyes, saw the candle flames dancing through the water.

He was grateful for the lack of lighting, for it masked his own glistening eyes in the shadows.

_'Sydney was another man. A man George had loved. Lived for. Died for.'_

The whole world seemed different inside this musty old library full of buried words and secret hearts.

George Shickle had lived a lie. A lie he'd ached to fill with truth, and share.

Though Brian Kinney wasn't the crying kind, he couldn't stop the silent tears from forming as he tried to imagine that kind of yearning. Imagine how a lonliness so severe would feel. An endless abyss, painfully empty save for this one deep secret.

It took him a moment to register that Justin was walking toward him. He blinked away the wetness in his eyes, and focused them on the blond's hands. They held a strip photograph. Two young sailors. George and Sydney.

_'They looked ...whole.' _It was a strange word choice, but was the only one that sprang to mind.

Nothing like the broken man who ended his life for a reunion. Brian concluded that the two were neccessary for each other. Unable to feel complete, apart. He wished in that moment that he couldn't relate.

He let himself glance up from the tiny portraits of the past and into the blue eyes of his own yesterday. They appeared to mirror his gentle thoughts of Shickle's love lost, and the secret that was buried with them.

It suddenly hit him that he was beginning to feel comfortable with Justin. An ironic comfort, that once acknowledged made him significantly uneasy.

Like ice water poured to his heart, Brian jolted slightly._ 'What was he doing?'_

He tossed the sappy shit aside and hardened his face, before taking once last glance at the photo and tossed it back to Justin. "Gross." he said lamely. He didn't even sound convincing to himself.

"No it's not." Justin spoke, taking a seat next to Brian.

Their knees brushed together and Brian froze. He left it there, longer than he'd needed to, before shuffling over. Away from that knee and the strange things it was doing to his insides.

"Love is love." Justin shrugged matter-of-factly. "All hearts beat the same. It doesn't matter what body it's in."

Brian was most definitely curious about Justin's non-phased reaction to Shickle's homosexuality.

Brian watched the way Justin's hair shined in the candlelit memories of someone else's love.

It was mesmerizing.

The warmth in his voice and the flickering fire revealed that Taylor was not merely blond. His hair held strands of gold. Various shades of spun silk.

It almost hurt to look at it. He let his eyelids fall. To shut out the view and rested his head back onto the sofa.

With himself closed, he wondered not for the first time, how Taylor could always be so open.

Justin looked down at the face of the golden boy that used to mean so much. He'd seen a curious softness in Brian's gaze when he'd shown him the picture. Of course it lasted but a second. Always, whenever Brian's eyes started to reveal him, he quickly replaced it with, whatever he wanted you to see.

The boys sat in silence.

Justin realized this was the first time in too long that he had seen Brian with his eyes closed.

It was a sight to leave him breathless. He seemed delicate, honest.

Justin knew inside those eyes was where Brian predominantly displayed his guard. Closed, they kept his secrets in, yet somehow gave away even more.

The blond's fingers ached to run their tips across those shut lids. To feel their existence. To confirm they weren't some beautiful dream.

Just one touch.

He sat but inches away. So close, yet so far out of his reach.

Just one touch.

He almost took it too, until Brian must've felt his fingertips nearness.

He jerked his head and his eyes fluttered open. He looked at Justin's pale hand, "What are you doing?" Brian asked, and then did something the blond didn't expect. He _smiled_.

Really smiled.

Hazel still contained a gentleness, by which Justin was comforted. The blond pulled his hand back and set it in his lap. He cocked his head slightly and couldn't help but return Brian's smile. "I didn't know you still knew how to do that." he almost whispered.

"Do what?" Brian asked equally as soft.

"Smile." Justin answered simply, then for some reason felt compelled to rise from the couch and walk back toward the fireplace.

They were stuck together in this room, a room that was rapidly becoming too damn small. Admittedly, he'd wished for so long for the old Brian back, _his_ Brian.

Now that he saw another glimpse he was having second thoughts. His emotions were better off not focusing on Brian Kinney.

But still, he'd smiled.

The small action gave Justin the initial push he'd so long ago needed. He swallowed his worry, and blindly lept into his inquiry, "Why do you hate me?'"

His hushed words crept to Brian in the darkness, delivering chills as good as any ghost.


	8. The Final Time

The blond's inquiry paused Brian's life.

He was sure the world stopped spinning, the oceans stopped churning, and his lungs ceased to expand.

It caught him completely off guard. Something someone as guarded as he, couldn't fathom.

Still, he'd allowed Justin's question to sink in. Endless unfinished, untrue answers begged to be said.

But he couldn't bring himself to say them, _to lie_.

Not to him.

Shaking more than he'd admit, he rose from the sofa and went to Taylor; who was waiting patiently for his response.

He forced himself to look the boy in the eyes. More afraid of what he'd see, or worse yet, what Justin would, than any ghost in the place.

Pleading blue demanded he speak. Against his better judgement, he told the truth.

Breathing breaths of second guesses, he whispered, "I don't hate you."

He'd meant it.

His mind flashed to him a memory of Justin's delicate penmanship, he felt dizzy. He recalled the words he'd read a thousand times. He only let himself remember for an instant before tucking the memory away...again.

Justin could almost hear another sentence in Brian's voice. One that something kept him from saying.

He focused on the one Brian _had_ said.

_'I don't hate you.'_ Yes, he'd heard right.

As quick as he could, Justin scrambled to grab hold of the words. He wanted to hide them away before Brian could take them back.

The stunning admission lost it's novelty quickly. Already, the walls around Justin's heart began to reinvent themselves.

Walls, Brian had initially built. Brick by brick.

"You don't?" the blond asked, his quivering voice tinted with anger. He could've sworn he'd yelled it, but his voice had in fact been just above a whisper. "You could've fooled me Kinney. I'd hate to see how you treat someone you do. Or worse, someone you _love_." he did shout the last words.

There harshness was seemingly palpable as Brian literally stumbled backwards.

The softness in his eyes just moments ago, was replaced with a steel stare. "Just shut up Taylor." he spat, averting his eyes.

"I will not!" Justin responded defiantly.

The more he heard Justin's voice, the more confused Brian became._ 'Why did Justin have to ask that? Why did he care?'_

Frightening truths circled his mind. Everything he'd kept hidden was rising to the surface. Too many emotions to sort through.

He had never felt so helplessly out of control.

Justin was still talking, but he couldn't decipher the words. The pressure within him was unbearable.

Threatening to implode his heart, explode his mind and crush him altogether.

He wished the blond would let it go. He needed him to be quiet, if only for a second. Just long enough for him to relieve some of the crippling pressure.

Brian's remedy to silence Justin shocked them both.

No longer had confessions and questions been the most unexpected things to escape his mouth tonight.

That honor belonged to...a kiss.

Although this would mark the moment of his, Very. First. Kiss, it took less than never for Justin to mirror the movement of Brian's lips.

Lips as soft as summer's rain, but with the force of a violent storm.

Both boys were surprised to find how easily they'd figured the ministrations out. How seamlessly their mouths melted together.

Of course Brian had several times kissed Lindsay, but not like this. This was fiery. Intense. Borderline insane. For certainly he felt he was going crazy.

_'Boys didn't kiss other boys.'_ This much he knew. Saint Joan always preached of man and wife. Had always pushed Brian to court Lindsay. Jack had even displayed pride at his son's catch of such a gal.

_'Why was something that felt so natural...the way his tongue swirled around Justin's...unnatural?'_

His whole body shivered, and he gave serious thought to how that was possible when he felt so damn hot.

The heat had originated in his groin but quickly spread, all the way to his fingertips. His legs. He wondered how it was he still stood. How he was not the puddle on the floor of melted mush he was on the inside.

He felt Justin's slender fingers tangle in his hair and it startled him. It was as if Justin tugging at his locks had in turn, pulled him back to reality, away from the dream of Justin's kiss.

Suddenly he felt terrified.

_'What must Justin be thinking?'_

He couldn't know.

He needed to.

He wouldn't dare find out.

For a sliver of a second, the words_ 'I'm sorry'_ came to the edge of his kiss swollen lips. He tucked them under to keep them from spilling into the air._ 'No apologies.'_

A spike of fear and confusion drove through him, piercing his heart in a place that had been previously unscathed.

It drove fiercely deep into his chest. Drove him out of his mind, and out of the room.

Justin stood stunned. Both elated and devastated._ 'What the hell had just happened?'_

Doubt and hope chased each other across his face, until burning tears drowned them both.

* * *

><p>The summer's night air did nothing to cool Brian. His everything was overheated and overwhelmed.<p>

With Justin's face refusing to leave his thoughts; he'd decided to replace it with another one.

A face he was allowed to imagine with excitement, the contentment he'd felt just moments ago.

A face he was allowed to kiss.

He ran for his bike, ignoring the questions from Mikey and the shouted taunts of "Scaredy Cat!" and alike phrases from various voices.

Yes, it was true. He had encountered something terrifying in Shickle Manor. Something more frightening than anyone could imagine.

He'd come face to face with his heart and the feelings it threw at him when he had touched his lips to Taylor's.

The ghost of that kiss would haunt him always.

The moon shined down it's accusing glare as he rode to his girlfriend's house._ 'Girlfriend. Girl.'_ The way things were supposed to be.

What happened inside that library, where the world had felt different, was never going to happen again.

The memory of it now caused anger to rise inside, only directed at Brian himself.

Justin's scribbled words from the past attempted to write themselves again on his mind, but he erased them.

He set his bicycle against the weeping willow in the Peterson's front yard. It's limbs cascaded to the ground, hanging in the shame that Brian felt.

His stomach churned, sick with confusion, anger and the aforementioned shame.

Shame was the worst, it always silenced him.

He had gone there with the intention of calling out to the blonde's window, of smiling at her, of kissing her like he had kissed Justin.

He opened his mouth but no sound came.

The blond hair he longed to view right now did not belong to Lindsay Peterson.

He mounted his bike again. Finally, the heat had subsided. Unfortunately it was only replaced by an unnerving coldness.

An icy disgust with himself that attempted to freeze any warmth Justin Taylor may, or may not have brought to his heart.

He pulled his shirt as tight to his body as he could. It couldn't prevent the chill from reaching his bones.

He picked up speed, peddling as fast as his toned legs could manage. No matter how hard he pushed himself, nor the distance he rode, it would never be far enough.

You cannot outrun yourself.

Brian finally slowed when his own house came into view. Before he quietly entered through the back door, the night exhaled. It's breathy sigh tickled the trees, their leaves gossiping about the kiss.

Once in his room, Brian went to his bookshelf and retrieved the words that had plagued him for so long.

The worn pages of the yearbook felt decades old. It's bind opened countless times.

He traced his fingertip over those four little words, that had caused enormous problems.

Suddenly he understood why George Shickle had written those letters all those years ago. Understood too, his mother's obsession with bible scripture.

Sometimes words are not just letters grouped together.

Sometimes they are something more.

Much more.

He let his eyes read them for what he swore would be the final time.

**'I love you. -Justin'**

The blond's voice, gentle as a southern song, replayed in his head...for what he swore would be the final time. _'Why do you hate me?'_

_'What was wrong with him?'_ Brian felt like he was coming apart at the seams.

Heartstrings unraveled into a knotted mess.

He was so broken.

Unrepairable.

_'How could anyone love him?'_ Especially someone like Justin Taylor.

He gathered all of his loose threads and tucked them into bed with him, where he dreamed about the taste of Justin's kiss...

...for what he swore would be the final time.


	9. Mind Trip

The boy who had held the photograph last night was gone.

He'd evaporated along with the morning's humid fog leaving the air awkward inside the store.

They had been there for hours and the number of actual words exchanged were less than a few. Justin guessed this was the part where they were to pretend nothing had happened.

He knew what even such a brief moment of losing control meant for someone like Brian.

So much so, that he'd told everyone that Brian hadn't run away scared. That he'd only realized he'd hadn't told his parents where he'd be. He was running from a grounding.

Justin had told this lie because, it was Brian. A boy he knew would rather have them think anything other than the truth.

Whatever that was.

He'd even reneged their bet. He'd never minded sharing anything with Brian, least of all something as insignificant as a place to swim. Though teen testosterone ran high in Hazlehurst. Everyone felt the need to prove themselves.

Especially Brian.

Justin had always known how deeply the brunet's need for strength ran.

He'd never had been able to handle anyone thinking he was weak, or...something else.

Something Justin had suspected but was never selfish enough to let himself believe.

Until now. Until that kiss.

The one that apparently never happened.

Still tasting Brian on his lips and in his memory, Justin knew it had been real. Real and even better than he'd imagined so many times.

He'd looked at the clock, the seconds ticked in slow motion.

Brian quietly swept the floor in the farthest spot he could get from Justin, who sat on the stool behind the register.

Not a customer in sight.

As Justin tried to ignore the boy ignoring him, he played half-heartedly with a yellow yo-yo from the counter display.

He watched the toy go up and down.

It mimicked the continuous back and forth that Brian Kinney had been pulling him.

A blond toy, dangling on a heartstring.

Brian swept the same spot of tile that he had started on nearly forty-five minutes ago. It must've been getting down to the dirt by now.

The action had been almost robotic, his limbs working on their own, his mind working on forgetting the unforgettable taste of Justin Taylor.

Today had started with bewilderment, when the blond had lied about the secret world inside that library.

Justin had had the ammunition to open fire, to annihilate him with the truth.

Whatever that was.

_'Why hadn't he?'_ Brian realized then, that he'd never understand Justin.

Not having been the vicious confrontation he'd envisioned, Brian had no idea how he was supposed to act. So, he'd spent all day avoiding him when he could, and kept his words short and formal when he couldn't.

It was almost uncomfortable, this new awareness of him.

Every word, every movement, every pause registered immediately with Brian.

Attacking his senses, from his scent to his sentences.

He saw now the kid looking in his direction and felt himself shift his head away.

He felt overexposed, those blue eyes were busting him wide open, spilling all of his secrets.

He acknowledged the broom in his hands and wished it'd been a mop...to clean up another of Taylor's messes.

The relentless silence was at last interrupted when Mr. Vic and Mikey's mom came from the storage room. "Business is slow this afternoon. Yeah..." Vic began.

"Yeah, you boys go on, have some fun." Deb finished for him.

Brian was suddenly reminded of Claire and her latest boyfriend. They always finished each others sentences. He'd hated when couples did that.

Either way, he was pleased with their impromptu freedom. He started to mentally construct a list of possible ways to spend his newly open hours, (most likely working on his motorcycle) when Debbie decided for him.

"Michael's just gone to the bowling alley. Half price today." she smiled and opened the cash register on the diner counter. "Here ya are, My treat." she exclaimed, handing the bill to Justin, who walked up beside him. Brian wished she'd have given him the money instead.

This way, he'd now have go with Justin, share the funds, share the same air, share...words.

Regardless of his early parole from work, Brian now felt more imprisoned than ever.

The chipper redheaded warden left them to answer the ringing phone, and Mr. Vic had already retreated back to the storage room.

There he was, shackled to this blond ball and chain once again.

It seemed a cruelty for him to keep getting pushed toward the very boy he wanted to run away from.

Life was a joke and he was the punchline.

As if hearing the brunet's thoughts, Justin spoke. In a hushed voice, careful to keep emotion from it, careful not to entice emotion from Brian. "Here, you take it." he insisted, holding the money to Brian, "Mikey's your best friend. I don't need to come."

It was true, he hadn't needed to but still he very much would've like to.

"Thanks." Brian said with a curt jerk of his head and the dollar bill.

Justin hadn't known why he'd expected anything else.

Though a substantial part of him wished to holler at Brian and go anyway...wished even more to yell all of his troublesome thoughts of that still lingering kiss, that was, dizzying his mind. He didn't.

Instead he shrugged with a casual politeness he hadn't felt but was always taught. Justin was always considerate. _'What can you do?'_ he thought walked out the door.

Brian saw the quick shock flash in Justin's eyes when he'd taken him up on his offer. He knew damn well that Justin had wanted to go, knew damn well that Brian too, had wanted him to.

Well, at least he thought he had, or he'd guessed. Perhaps he truly hadn't known that at all._ 'Shit, lately it felt like all he knew was nothing, about anything.'_

Deb's money grew hot in his hand. He was surprised to find he felt guilty about stealing Justin's afternoon fun. Still, a portion of him stuck firmly by that decision.

The portion that despised thinking too hard and feeling too much. He exhaled a confusion infused breath and walked outside.

"I think I like your bike better than mine," Chris Hobbs' voice greeted Brian's ears.

Assessing the situation, he saw the irritating teen was once again, taunting Taylor.

Justin looked strong, angry, yet somehow he also looked frightened.

Brian resonated with that group of contradicting looks. He harbored a sneaking suspicion that his own face often wore them.

"Yeah," the bully's voice sneered, "I say we're gonna trade." he said, roughly shoving the smaller blond off his seat and to the ground. Justin let out a small yell and Hobbs grabbed the handle bars.

"No," Brian's own voice startled him. "I don't think that's going to happen." he said harshly.

He watched both Justin and Hobbs' eyes widen at his words.

"What the fuck Kinney?" Chris nearly laughed, then attempted to mount Justin's bicycle.

Before his mind registered his motion, Brian found his arms grabbing Taylor's tormentor by the shoulder, and shoving him against the wooden side of the store.

"Brian," Justin's soft voice gasped a little.

That voice saying his name directed his attention from the angry boy under his arms to the gentle boy at his feet.

In the reflection of the storefront, he watched him stand up and brush himself off. A sense of relief rushed through Brian when he saw that the kid wasn't hurt.

He felt Hobbs struggle beneath his grip and pressed harder. He locked eyes with the kid delivering an unmistakable silent threat.

Chris softened his muscles. Message received.

"Christ Brian." the boy said rubbing his sore arm, "I was only joshing with him. Since when do you care about the fairy princess?" he added before riding off on his own bike.

Brian stood still and silent._ 'Since when_ had_ he cared?'_ he asked himself.

_'Since always.'_ another voice in his mind answered. It sounded soft...and suspiciously blond. He tried to ignore it.

Unfortunately, he couldn't ignore the blue eyes that met his eyes in the reflective window. He made no attempt to turn around, with his back to Justin was the only way he could face him.

He'd hoped Justin wouldn't say 'Thank you.' or similarly acknowledge the fact that he had indeed just defended him. An action he'd have done in an instant two years ago.

Having done so now though, only raised more questions he wasn't ready to answer. He knew that one day he may have to, but for now he'd just file them away.

Justin was always considerate.

He said nothing, just turned to climb onto his bike. Brian mounted his own but remained in place.

He watched intently the blond ride away._ 'Ride away Kinney.'_ he ordered himself._ 'Call to him.'_ that unwelcome other voice instructed.

Brian shook his head. He left his inner voices to argue among themselves.

"Justin," his voice called...outside of his head.

The blond halted and turned his head to face Brian. His tan skin looked suited for the sun. The breeze blew wisps of his hair through the summer. The view paused Justin's thoughts. His ability to speak.

Luckily he hadn't needed it. Brian spoke again, "You coming?" he asked in a wavering tone in which Justin heard both pleading and uncertainty.

He used his feet to turn around and peddled toward the sunkissed Kinney.

Evidently, Brian was taking him on a mind trip, and he'd packed his emotional baggage.


	10. Wishes Makebelieve Bullshit

Michael tried to guide the bright green bowling ball with his mind. Silently, he willed it to move towards the center of the lane. He was not telepathic, another gutter ball.

"Shit!'' he exclaimed. He was usually so good at this, he was definitely off his game tonight. For several reasons, or several thoughts rather, that filled his mind, overshadowing his knowledge of bowling.

First and foremost there was Ben, who was currently giving him a smile and words of encouragement that he'd 'Get a strike next turn.'

Ben had a nice smile. When he looked at it, Michael couldn't help but smile too.

It had been too long since he and Brian had spent time with Ben and Justin doing anything but argue.

There had been no arguing so far this evening.

Earlier, when Brian had arrived with Justin, they'd claimed his mother had told them to go bowling together. Each had acted like they weren't quite Okay with Deb's arrangements.

Michael knew better. Tonight, Brian was more than Okay.

He was also anything but annoyed by Taylor's presence.

In fact, right now, even over the sounds of the crowded bowling alley, rumbling balls, crashing pins, chattering, the constant chimes of the arcade...Mikey could hear only one thing.

Brian's laughter.

Sure he'd heard his best friend laugh before, but not like this, not in a while.

This was the first time in longer than he could remember that he'd heard Brian Kinney's heart escape into the air. In the form of this genuine happiness.

Even if it was to end soon, he felt grateful to have heard it. Brian often times seemed so sad.

He had never told Mikey what, if anything, Justin had done to cause his abrupt disliking of the kid he used to spend so much time with. So much so, that Michael had often found himself feeling left out.

Though out of loyalty to his best friend, he'd disliked him too. He knew with Brian, one mustn't pry. If he had wanted Michael to know his reasoning, he'd have told him.

Regardless of past time squabbles, the four former friends were together now. For as little or as long as this was to last, Michael was going to enjoy it. He'd never told Brian, but he truly missed it.

Tonight was the best he'd had in a while. He guessed for Brian too.

Taking a seat next to Ben, he looked across the score table at the boy he cared so much about. He wasn't looking back.

Brian's eyes held only the blond, the reason Michael guessed, for the sudden reappearance of that wonderful laugh.

Brian had to admit, if only to himself, that he was having a good time.

Mikey hadn't given him a hard time for bringing Taylor with him. He'd even invited Ben to join them when he'd seen the kid playing skee ball.

_'Maybe everything wasn't as distorted as he'd felt. Maybe the weirdness between him and Taylor would somehow work itself out.'_

He liked that thought. Even if it was unrealistic.

For a moment he let himself believe that everything would be okay.

Like it had been years ago. Like it had been the day _before_ Justin had signed his yearbook and changed everything.

He decided to live in that hope for as long as life would allow.

Right now, life looked pretty good.

His view directly faced Justin Taylor.

He watched the blond pick up a red bowling ball and step onto the lane. His small hands looked too fragile to support it's weight, but Brian knew the kid was nowhere near as dainty as he seemed.

Justin was strong. Possibly the strongest person Brian had ever known.

It was just another thing that made Brian both admire and despise the blond.

It seemed unfair that he could be both kind and stable when Brian himself could barely hold anything together.

Ask anybody in Hazlehurst and they'd tell you that Brian Kinney was a confident, no, an arrogant kid without a care in the world. He was fine with that. He'd Let them think what they would. What he'd shown them.

To pretend he never cared.

To pretend he was unbreakable.

The pretending got much harder after Justin had written those damn words.

The more he thought about it now, the more he wondered if _that_ was why Justin was so strong...With those words, he'd taken Brian's strength.

Loss of such an important attribute had completely destabilized him. Especially when he'd needed his stolen strength the most, like now for instance.

Right now while he watched Justin bend over._ 'Christ. He sure was limber. What was he saying?'_

Justin was bent, preparing to throw his ball down the lane. Though it was traveling in the opposite direction, Brian could've sworn it was headed straight for him, threatening to shatter what little of himself he'd managed to keep intact.

The word 'Scrumptious' came to mind and he wondered where it'd come from.

His eyes traveled to the distinct curves of Justin's still bent form.

_'Oh, from right fucking there.'_ He'd solved the mystery of the appearing adjective.

He jumped a bit when Justin jumped a lot.

Another strike for the blond who was good at too much.

Brian closed his eyes tightly, and tried to envision anything else. Nothing his mind could conjure had been able to distract him from the 'Scrumptious' image he'd wished would leave him.

His mouth was becoming increasingly dry as the rest of him wetted with perspiration. "I'm gonna get a pop." he announced to no one and excused himself.

Then he was off to retrieve a refreshment, to refresh him.

Justin marked his strike on the board, and caught sight of Brian's retreating body. He watched the brunet head toward the food counter and pause halfway there.

He took a seat, but still kept an eye on the other boy. He watched him curiously, though not obviously. He knew Brian wouldn't have wanted anyone to notice Justin noticing him.

Justin followed the movement of Brian's hands. They went first into his pocket, then deposited a dime into the claw machine. The blond craned his neck a little to try to get a glimpse of what had caught Brian's eye. The look on his face was focused.

The metal hand inside moved with the carefulness of Brian's on the crank. It gripped an object, and by the new look on Brian's face, it had been his intended target. A bracelet adorned with shells.

At almost the same instant, a loud disgruntled shout withdrew that delicate hand away, the prize dropped back among the rest.

Justin's eyes shifted to the shout, he quickly averted them when he'd seen from whom it had emerged. Jack Kinney.

Justin quickly dropped his gaze and his head when he felt Brian look in his direction.

Everyone in town knew Jack liked to drink. Maybe only Justin knew that Jack's son pretended that he didn't know they knew.

To Brian, his family and every issue that entailed was best kept under the roof of their home.

Blue softened with a sympathy he knew Brian wouldn't appreciate.

Among hushed gossip and shifting glances, Brian went to his stumbling father's side. Justin saw him lean in to whisper something he couldn't hear. Jack looked at his son like he didn't recognize him.

Brian's usually confident body appeared to disappear in the shadow of the drunk man that loomed above him. No one bothered to help the kid, who was obviously struggling to escort Jack Kinney outside.

Justin wished he could help, although he knew that would mean Brian would have to be willing to ask for it. _'That wouldn't happen.'_

Nevertheless, he couldn't just leave the boy alone with the man who could still be heard cursing, even now that they had made it to the door.

Slowly, soundless, Justin followed the two Kinneys into the parking lot.

"Hey Sonnyboy." Jack slurred. He eyed his son as if he'd just noticed his presence.

He also had just discovered they were standing beside his truck. "Get in Bri, let's go get us something to eat." he instructed and attempted to open the car door. A feat that proved almost impossible when his legs couldn't support his weight with Brian's assistance.

The man swiveled a bit before stumbling almost to the ground.

Brian looked sadly down at the man who needed Brian more than he'd needed him. Looking into Ol' Jack's whiskey clouded eyes, he felt too many things.

Anger, embarrassment, and even worry. Nowhere in him had he felt surprised.

_'Why did he have to do this now?'_

Now, when his pretending had been going so well.

When everything was mimicking so much of what he'd long wished for.

Wishes. Make-believe. Bullshit.

"You can't drive like this." he scolded his father like the child Brian was supposed to be. More than anything, right now he wanted to just be sixteen.

He reached down to help Jack once again stand upright. He should've known better.

From the corner of the building, Justin watched Brian try to pull his Dad from the pavement. He watched the angry man grab the boy's arm tightly and sling him violently aside.

A gasp escaped his own mouth in time with Brian's startled yelp.

Everything but Justin's feet leaped forward. Anxious and aching to go to him. His stubborn feet kept him planted in place.

His heart hurt a little less when he saw Mr. Kinney eventually help his son up and concede to a seat on the passenger side. Brian moved slowly, in obvious pain, to position himself behind the wheel.

Mikey and Ben of course, along with the rest of this fucking tiny town, would already know that Brian would have gone home. He decided he'd go and tell them that he had to as well.

Justin knew the very last thing Brian would want was company right now.

To draw attention to the scene Jack had caused. To his weakness.

He knew that.

Just as sure as he knew he didn't care what Brian wanted.

Just as sure as he knew he _had_ to see the boy who never knew _what_ the hell he wanted.


	11. Peace Offering

The sun was moments away from it's final farewell. The darkened indigo sky had become sprinkled with stars. The moon at the ready to work it's shift.

The air was still. The second Justin stopped his bike his face protested the loss of the circulating breeze he'd had while riding.

The bowling alley was some distance away, yet Justin had found the journey way too short.

It always seemed whenever he was anxious to do something the longer it took to arrive. However, if it was something he was not excited to do, time flew toward it.

He was nervous.

He had gone to Brian's house with no clear conversation in mind. All he'd known was that he needed to see with his own eyes, that Brian was okay...or at least pretending to be.

He shifted his eyes to the other boy's bedroom window, thankful that, unlike his own, was on the ground level. With each step closer to the window, he was reconsidering his choice to come here.

Easily, quickly, he could've just gone home. His house was just around the corner. A fact that had made them not talking even harder.

_'No. He had to see him. Hear him.'_

His soft steps on the soft ground left his arrival soundless. The grass squished a little underneath his converse, having just been greeted by the sprinkler.

It was true that Justin was completely silent.

The same answered false about Brian.

Upon hearing the quiet, but unmistakable sound, Justin froze.

Light sniffles and heavy gulps talked to the night, spoke gently through the open window. Without a screen between the summer air and the room that whispered to it.

_'Brian was crying.'_

Of course the sobs came gingerly from him. As with everything else, Brian Kinney's tears were graceful.

Of all of the years that the blond had known him, he'd never heard _this_. Everything about the noise had Justin's eyes shimmering with a liquid ache of his own.

His mind recalled the vision of Brian crashing crudely to the hard cement in the parking lot. An anchor of regret tied itself to Justin's heart, pulling it into his stomach. He'd felt a discomfort like never before.

He regretted ever having shoved Brian during any of their previous fights. Having ever caused him the same kind of pain that his father had.

He was suddenly terrified that he had contributed a tear or two, that spilled from Brian's eyes and into Justin's. Hazel into blue.

He couldn't bear that burden. _'He had to leave.'_

It felt wrong for him to eavesdrop on the brunet's conversation with the listening night.

Justin was always considerate.

Determined to leave as unnoticed as he'd come, he turned back toward his bike. Just as his sneaker caught itself on the uncoiled garden hose.

A shocked slew of curse words escaped before he could stop them. Any hope he'd had of a refined exit fell away, when the words fell from his mouth, and Justin fell to the ground.

He used his palms to brace himself. They were stinging.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Brian's voice asked harshly from the window.

_'Great.'_ Now his heart was stinging too.

There was roughness in Brian's tone that had Justin wishing for instant invisibility. He thought, not for the first time, that life should come with a trap door. A convenient spontaneous exit from moments...like this one.

He slowly turned to face the question he didn't want to answer, the one he wasn't sure he could...

_...'What the fuck _was_ he doing here?'_

He met Brian's impatient glare, opened his mouth to speak and promptly shut it. No words had attached to his voice.

Blue eyes blinked blankly.

Brian blinked back.

The anger Brian had felt just seconds ago was rapidly vanishing. At first he'd been mad at the prospect of anyone hearing his sobs, of seeing him like this.

Especially Justin.

He was ashamed and afraid.

Now, however, as he stared into those seemingly endless blue eyes, he could not find any anger.

Instead, he realized, he felt grateful for his face. His visit. His concern.

He chose not to let Justin in on this discovery.

He straightened his posture, kept his voice cold. "Well?" he demanded rudely.

"I uh, I saw, in the parking lot." Justin rambled.

Brian's face rushed to match the blond's paleness._ 'Had Justin seen his father push him?'_ He felt ill at the thought. Worry seeped from his stare, he blinked quickly hoping Justin hadn't seen it.

"I don't need you to check up on me." he snapped.

_'Yes I do.'_ his mind contradicted.

Noticing on Justin's face that his words had wounded him, Brian softened.

He wished it would just be easy to pick up where they'd left off. Laughing. Comfortable. Almost friends.

_'Why must there always be set backs, complications, awkwardness?'_

He knew, somewhere deep down, that having Justin here made everything hurt less.

"I'm okay." he said almost too soft for the blond to hear.

Justin just nodded. He had not been surprised by Brian's initial irritated greeting. It'd actually gone better than he'd expected.

Right now he let himself drink in all of the brunet. Scanning for signs of pain.

Small bruises had begun to paint their deep violet hues on golden canvas. Brian's tanned arms.

Brian was always angered by anyone who dared to give a damn about him; to Justin this was not news.

He'd long ago mastered how to handle the rantings of Brian Kinney.

Even when the lyrics were hard to hear, Brian's voice was a song worth the listen.

"I've brought you something." Justin spoke through the beginning of a smile.

Brian's lips too traveled north briefly,as did the eyebrow he'd raised at the boy on his lawn. The expression silently inquiring what he'd brought.

"A peace offering." Justin promised. He stepped forward and then climbed onto a newly severed tree stump. It brought him level with Brian's window sill.

He remembered when it used to be a luscious apple tree. Cut down like he'd been cut from Kinney's life. Both suffering the loss of the view into Brian's window.

Though he still didn't fully understand the reason for the second, he had known that the tree was evicted because it was overcrowded and rained it's damaged crop against the house. Distorting it's perfect home image. Leaving them stifled for growth, and bruised.

Not unlike the beautiful bruised boy before him. He guessed the apple never did fall far from the tree.

Steadying himself, he reached into the back pocket of his wranglers. His fingers clasped around the gift.

Brian watched Justin's movements. He let out an audible breath when he looked at the object Justin held.

The shell bracelet.

The offering warmed Brian a little. It was the spark of fire he'd needed to melt away the memory of Jack's outburst that was frozen to his mind.

Justin had known he'd needed this gesture, this spark._ 'How did he always know?'_

Brian drew his lips into a smirk, and clicked his tongue. "Stalking me Sunshine?" he teased.

For a fraction of a moment, Brian thought he saw excitement flash within Justin's eyes.

A shiver of excitement danced through Justin's veins at the nickname Brian had given him. He'd never called him that before that day at the lake. Never when they'd been friends.

Now, it was becoming more frequent.

Justin reveled in the word. 'Sunshine'. Each time Brian spoke it, the blond would bask in it's warmth.

He shook his head, trying to show the level of ridiculousness he'd found in Brian's accusation.

He didn't dwell on the fact that that had been exactly what he'd done.

Spied on him playing the claw machine. Followed him into the parking lot, this house._ 'Yep. Stalker fit.'_

Although still fresh and mostly concealed by Brian's shirt, closer now, the bruises were more defined. Justin imagined that soon the offending marks, on otherwise flawless flesh, would richen. Deepen in color and deepen in ache inside and out.

Forthwith he saddened with the realization that such marks took time to heal. Brian would be constantly reminded of everything he felt now, until they'd faded.

Not wanting to apply even the slightest pressure, he gingerly reached for Brian's hand.

The brunet still winced through his teeth, causing Justin's eyes to instinctively look again at the purple pain.

Catching his observation, Brian began to reconstruct the walls around his heart.

When Justin gently placed a kiss on the bruise closest to Brian's wrist, he'd barricaded himself completely. Roughly, he jerked his hand away. Pulling it to him, away from Justin and his too touchy body parts.

A delicate tingle still lingered on his wrist where those hands and lips had connected.

A quick flash of anger appeared once more, "What are you doing?" he asked guarded; fiercely wiping the echo of Justin's lips from his wrist.

Justin spoke softly, unbothered. "Killing you with kindness."

Without asking Brian's consent, he again reached for the boy's hand. Brian was too stunned by the blond's guts to protest.

His touch was gentle, soothing and all kinds of tingly.

Brian studied Justin carefully as he tied the bracelet to his wrist.

As he did so he kept his head down. Focused on tying it easy, Justin sighed. ''You know, being mean to me has never really worked." he completed the knot and glanced to Brian through his lashes.

He could see the brunet was intently watching him, but said nothing.

Justin was certain he'd seen a smidgen of amusement in those ever changing eyes.

Gaining a sense of bravery at that smidgen, Justin leaned forward.

Brian visibly swallowed hard, but did not. Move. A. Muscle.

With his elbows on the window sill supporting him, Justin leaned in and touched his lips to Brian's cheek.

Too nervous to wait for a reaction, he turned, found his bike and peddled home. He did not glance back.

Brian stood as still as a statue; fully he savored the tingle of that kiss on his face.

He did not wipe that one away.


	12. Almost More

A sense of contentment wrapped Justin's heart like cowry shells wrapped Brian's wrist.

He'd felt an extra pep in his step as he eyed the bracelet now, as it moved with Brian's arm as he loaded coins into the register. The blond had been surprised at how elated he'd become just because Brian Kinney still wore last night's peace offering.

Which had done it's job.

Indeed it had instilled a sense of peace. Peace within Justin, within their tumultuous non-friendly friendship and, by the looks of it today, inside Brian as well.

According to the calculations of the past two years, the boys had gone from best friends to annoying acquaintances. These simple shells intertwined with cheap rope was certainly more than a dime store piece of jewelry.

No, it was something grand. Something that continued to warm Justin from the inside out, soft tears attempted to extinguish the heat.

He looked once more at the rope, so gingerly tied, and sighed.

For one heartbeat of a fantasy, he imagined his arms encircling Brian's slender, yet strong chest.

Embracing tightly the boy who could erase the world with his smile.

Imagined inhaling his scent, feeling his warmth.

Yes, of all of the things that Justin missed about his friendship with Brian, he'd missed hugs the most. Missed a time when he'd been allowed to do so.

No mess. No complications.

Nonetheless, he liked _now_ too, seeing the brunet openly display a gift he'd given him. Almost proudly. That fact delivered a feeling to Justin about as good as any hug.

Brian had appeared cool and calm in the store all day. So calm in fact he'd at first had Justin wondering if he was messing with him. Just joshing like everything was okay...for now.

As if he'd not seen the bruises the brunet had shown on both skin and soul just hours before.

Though, as the morning poured itself into noon, Brian's mood never faltered. He had even spared a few rare 'yesterday's smiles', despite his obvious discomfort. The boy's expressions had continued to mask the pain Justin knew he carried.

Justin had been acutely attuned to Brian's every action. Saw every sly struggle the boy had unsuccessfully attempted to hide from Justin and Ms. Debbie, who everyone knew you could never keep anything from.

Mr. Vic had gone into the city of Jackson to pick up some of his latest orders. A suspicious Debbie had none too conspicuously told the kids to take it easy, as long as they didn't tell the boss.

She had known Brian his entire life, known his parents even longer. The latter not being something to write home about.

Too many times she'd heard his broken body sneak into Michael's bedroom window.

Soft tears sometimes whispered through the walls. Sometimes they didn't.

She'd never scolded her son or his late night prowler. Brian Kinney had needed a friend, which Michael was. He also occasionally needed a safe place to be himself. Which she was able to provide in her tiny, cluttered, loving home.

For production value, and the kid's ego protection, she'd inquired briefly about his struggled pace. She hadn't mentioned the wincing she'd been watching him pretend hadn't happened all morning.

"I spun out on my motor bike." he'd answered. All tough guy. All bullshit. All Brian.

Brian's answer had piqued Justin's already heightened intrigue in the ever complex Kinney.

"I sure do! It's a 53' Ariel four-square." Brian had excitedly chattered when Justin had asked if he really owned a motorcycle.

The blond enjoyed every second watching Brian talk about his cycle. The gold flecks in his eyes seemingly twinkled in sync with every octave change in his voice.

It was a beautiful sight, seeing him this way. Lost in his own world of something he was passionate about.

Briefly turning out the other boys' vocal pondering of paint colors, Justin let himself ponder just what were Brian Kinney's other passions.

The thought left too quickly for Justin to enjoy it.

Brian's blinding smile shined a spotlight on his face. Transfixing the blond in the moment. It was one of those rare yesterday's smiles. The kind that erases the world.

It was then that Justin knew, he'd not been putting on a show at all. Brian was seriously...cheery.

It was also when Justin knew he'd do anything to keep that smile in place...

...If only he was allowed.

It was undeniably a better view than sadness brimming in those sparkling, gold dusted eyes.

Memories of last night flickered behind Justin's eyes.

Last night when Justin had witnessed a side of Brian he'd never before met. It was the exact reason that Kinney's optimistic attitude swam in Justin's belly with other feelings like sympathy and concern.

No matter what Brian would argue, Justin knew he was terrified of being weak, felt he was not meant for strength, or for love. The added thought sneaked into Justin's assessment.

His first clear memory of knowing Kinney he could tell the kid had trust issues. He could also tell the boy wasn't as arrogant as he let you believe. A guess that Justin had proved true throughout their years as best buds.

But last night...Brian had allowed Justin to see his weakness.

They'd shared Brian's secret between their eyes and a soft kiss whispered it to Brian's cheek.

Secrets. Surely secrets were shared with only friends.

Brian, who now stood ringing up a woman's groceries, had been too busy to notice Justin gawking at his every movement. Mesmerized by that damn insignificant bracelet. The one that meant too much, yet still not enough.

Right now it was no longer a peace offering it was a friendship bracelet.

Whether Brian had realized it or not, some form, some way, some shape; it announced a shift in their relationship.

Justin wasn't exactly sure what that shift was, but certainly they were no longer enemies. Not quite best friends but surely they'd now made it beyond acquaintances. The thought made him smile.

_'He'd take anything he could get.'_ The thought finished in time with Justin finishing up stacking the new 'Sunshine's Hydrox cookie' display.

A new over-sized advertisement displaying Justin's nickname to the store. Displaying it quite obnoxiously, in Brian's opinion. Justin quite liked it.

Standing up, his body brushed into Brian's suddenly near crotch as he went to stand. A soft sweeping motion, with still a touch of torque, it was impossible not to feel the other boy's arousal. Justin let out a bashful chuckle, as Brian offered a hand to help him up. He glanced at the offered hand, and then at Brian's eyes.

Blue studied hazel. Hazel blinked and faced the ground.

In that quick amount of time, Justin had seen the emotions Brian was trying to keep to himself.

Excitement at their abrupt, almost intimate contact. Then, sadly, a glimmer of shame danced on the surface of his eyes.

Justin didn't like that.

Aunt Lula had always told him that shame was the roadblock to smiles.

That's one of the many reasons Justin loved that eccentric Ol' woman. She was always wanting everyone to own who they were.

Embrace the good_ and_ the bad of you, accept it. Merge it. Live fully from both sides...or be miserable.

There were so many wonderful things about Brian Kinney. Embarrassingly, Justin had often fallen asleep listing Brian's positive points, until finally he'd succumb to sleep. List still usually incomplete.

If only Brian could see he was not weak. He was not damaged. And most importantly, he was not void of love.

_ 'Yes. There were several things Justin thought Brian should know.'_ Though he'd been sure he'd never tell him.

He was getting ahead of himself. But it was easy to rush ahead to the happily ever after, when your prince was wearing your peace offering.

Justin brushed his hand on the front of his thighs and let out a long breath. His sight pulled by a returning Mr. Vic.

He offered a smile to the boss and looked towards Brian who was taking a crate marked Coca-Cola from the man's hands.

The shells shaped perfectly around the muscles in his flexed wrist.

_'Relax Justin. Christ! It's just a bracelet.'_ "No it's not." he whispered to no one._ 'It's a second chance.'_

Brian set the seventh, final soda crate on the floor nearest the counter and wiped his brow with the hem of his shirt.

"You look hot." a soft voice observed. A voice and statement that warmed a little warmer his already hot everything. He swallowed, moistening his suddenly dry throat and lowered his shirt.

Justin was staring at him with an intensity that threw him off a little. After a second he lifted an eyebrow. "I am hot." he smiled slyly, holding blue, purposely not embellishing his statement.

He just stayed focused on Justin's face. On those eyes that reflected every question he himself was dying to ask but wasn't sure he could handle the answers to.

"Hmm." Justin agreed nonchalantly, revealing no hint of a smile.

A reaction that made Brian want to beg for something deeper. But, Brian Kinney didn't beg; he didn't usually want for meaningful moments and 'feeling' type words either. He wasn't thinking clearly.

_'A touch of heat stroke obviously.'_ Heavy lifting in Hazlehurst's heat was as dangerous as Justin's close proximity.

"Mr. Vic says we can grab a pop before we go." he smiled, then sat his Dr. Pepper bottle on the counter.

Brian watched as the other boy walked over and took a handful of peanuts from the ice cream toppings, and carefully put them into the open bottle. Preparing to take a sip, his eyes scanned Brian's inquisitive ones. The brunet wore a playful face of disgust.

He pulled the soda away from his lips and held it out to Brian's hesitance. "Wanna taste?" he waved the bottle gently, the liquid sloshed like Brian's belly.

This felt good; this stress free, simple company.

"It's the friendly pepper-upper that never lets you down!" Justin joked the jingle.

Brian shook his head. "I don't think so." he teased.

"Aw, come on. It's great! My Daddy drinks it like this." he declared, then took a long swig of the peanut spiked soft drink. "Mmm..." Justin exaggerated the sound, finishing his drink. His eyes moved but nothing else, towards Brian. "Boy, you sure don't know what you're missin'." he clicked his tongue, whilst Brian's tongue nearly panted.

He'd been entranced watching Justin's mouth encircle the neck of the Dr. Pepper bottle. He'd noticed maybe once, or fifty-seven times before, just how soft and pink Justin's lips were.

_'Yes. He sure did know what he was missin'_.' he answered only in his mind.

He'd in fact been missing it ever since that night in Shickle's library...Justin's mouth pouring into his. The warmth like he'd never known in Justin's greedy tongue.

He tried to think of anything else, but it was as if the heat of the memory itself was melting his brain. Uninvited sweat trickled down his forehead, mimicking the condensation dripping along that lucky bottle of pop.

His already overworked, over-thinking, overheated body threatened a nuclear meltdown. He needed fresh, Justin free, air.

He mumbled a slew of socially acceptable goodbyes to Justin and the bosses before hightailing out the door. Immediately his body thanked him for the slight breeze caused by the doors movement, his lungs hungry, breathed the breeze.

Today had been a step in the right direction with Justin. After last night, Brian could see no point in pretending the blond hadn't seen his tears, his vulnerability, as he stood at his window as fragile as a soap bubble, shivering and hollow.

Clearly, he didn't like the idea but he had to admit it was an honest relief having someone see a glimpse of the damage it was always so exhausting to hide. It felt somehow...right...that that person was Justin Taylor.

The boy who always knew the right thing to say and the right things to keep to himself.

Brian hopped on his bike, deciding to take the long way home. He wanted to enjoy the rarity of inner peace he'd felt. He glanced at the bracelet around his wrist. Gripping the bike's handlebars, he peddled a little faster.

Everything was different somehow. As if this single prize from a cheap claw machine had awarded him the world.

The blue of the sky nearly painted his brain; the sun's glow warmed all the way to his heart. Like a veil between Brian and life had been lifted, turning the details sharp and clear.

However, Brian hadn't been alone with his thoughts as long as he'd have liked. The sound of playing cards in a bicycle spoke that wasn't his, filled the day. A flash of blond hair tainted his peripheral vision.

"Following me Taylor?" he teased, no hint of irritation for the intrusion in his voice.

"Maybe." Justin answered with a smile Brian could hear.

At that one word, Brian's heart skipped in his chest like smooth stones Uncle Vic had once taught him to toss across the pond.

Though he didn't turn to face Justin, Brian returned his smile.

The two boys rode in comfortable silence almost friends. Almost more.


	13. Accepting & Misguided

Their own laughter was intermingled with others', accompanied by the unmistakable sound of splashing water.

Taking the long way home meant passin' by Hazlehurst's lone community pool. The town's most preferred gatherin' spot in the summer.

"Brian!" Claire's voice called out as both bikes rounded the corner.

Hearing his sister's voice, the boy straightened his legs to slow his ride. He dismounted and pushed his bike forward by the handlebars. Justin did the same. With both bicycles safely propped against the fence, they faced the pool.

Claire stood on the other side of the gate, her vivid red swimsuit clung to her in a manner not fit for small town life. Her lifeguard whistle dangled freely from her neck.

"Hey baby brother!" she smiled, then looked at Justin. ''Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? So handsome too. Ain't seen you in ages." Her whistle gave a gentle swing as she spoke.

Justin gave her that smile that only he could. "So whatcha' up to? No good I presume." she looked suspiciously to her little brother.

The boy smirked, "Of course. I am just sixteen; if you'll notice the boyish charm." he added a soft sweep to his cheek. Claire rolled her eyes, Justin breathed a laugh.

"Shame you boys couldn't come by earlier, I'm fixin' to close up."

Brian sent her regretful shrug but the other boy was no longer paying attention. Justin's eyes were transfixed on the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

She stood against a grand oak tree, her skin the color of caramel; her eyes, dark chocolate.

Claire and Brian followed his gaze.

"Poor little thing." Claire's voice at last reached Justin's ears, "Been standin' there all day." she sighed. "In this heat too. But you know the rules." she finished with a saddened disgust that both boys felt as well.

Though he had both known (and loathed) the fact that everyone in Hazlehurst judged others; Brian thought perhaps he shouldn't expect them to end the very same judgement he cast upon himself. He stayed quiet.

Justin hated hate. _'_

_What right did anyone one have, to think themselves superior based on anything. Especially things as trivial as skin color, religion, or with whom they shared a kiss?'_

He thought of George Shickle and Sidney. He thought of Brian.

He'd never understood why people had to be sorted, grouped and then promptly labeled for the shelf of society. Often enough the fanciest labels contained the worst kind of substance; or, no substance at all.

His mother had always told him there were two kinds of people in the world, the accepting and the misguided. Lately, to Justin it seemed the whole damn world was going in the wrong direction.

He recalled that smart Mr. King of the SCLC he and Emmett had heard on the radio last month.

There was a man brave enough to speak. Brave enough to be himself. He'd had a love affair with politeness and peace. _'Who was anyone to stand in his way?'_

Now, Justin didn't know how many had heard that man speak, the one tellin' em all to like each other and get along; but he dreamed that one day, everyone would hear him.

He was going to listen today. He started toward the girl.

Brian stepped forward to follow him.

"Wait." Claire's voice paused his other foot.

He watched his sister remove the key and whistle chain from around her neck. Her eyes shifted, sweeping for eavesdroppers. Satisfied that she couldn't be heard, she slipped it through the wire fence.

"Why don't you and Justin invite her for a swim." she smiled as Brian clasped the thick white rope in his palm. It was damp from having lain against her swimsuit.

Claire knew no discrimination. Despised segregation. She, like her brother, shared views that (secretly and silently of course) differed from their bible thumpin' mother's.

Her not so secretly racist of a boss would fire her on the spot if he knew she was inviting the little girl to swim in the 'whites only' pool.

The innocent girl, whose beautiful skin held a richness the richest of social climbers longed for. With hours spent here, lounging poolside in the sun.

The thought of her boss angry, made her smile even more.

Brian nodded to his sister then turned to go introduce himself to the new girl who, judging by her laugh, was Justin's new best friend.

* * *

><p>Daphne Chanders giggled for what felt like the millionth time in two hours.<p>

She laid now on the wet cement just to the left of the diving board, on which a _dry_ Brian Kinney dangled his feet. The soles of them skimmed lightly on the deep-end's surface.

The brown haired boy hadn't at all gotten into the pool, but the other one, Justin, had swam like he'd been born in the sea.

At first 'hello' Daphne had easily decided she liked them both.

Now as the summer sun teased the horizon, she welcomed it's departure. She enjoyed the deep coolness on her skin. A skin to which these two boys had paid no mind.

The Chanders family had just moved to a small house on the edge of town. Her mamma had taken a job sharin' her cookin' for a fancy white family here in Hazlehurst.

On days her daddy went lookin' for work, Daphne had to come with her. She'd been expected to 'keep herself busy' til after her momma served another family _her_ chicken-n-dumplings.

Today's 'busy work' ended early because of the heat. Daphne had played a little in a tiny creek she came across, before a mean boy told her it was his spot to fish. He'd called her a name that made her flinch.

An aimless wander had landed her here, at the fantastic swimming pool she wasn't allowed to enjoy.

Yet, here she was, soaking in the water like a normal girl with the appropriate tint of flesh.

There weren't many fun places she'd been allowed to go in town, weren't many people who'd treated her nice either. Until now.

Until these two adorable boys who teased her no more than they'd tease a sister, a friend. They'd been sweeter than her momma's jam to invite her to lunch next week at the place they worked. They'd assured her that the owners, Ms. Deb and Mr. Vic, would happily serve her. Welcome her. She really wanted to believe that. _'Guess she'd find out Monday.'_ she thought.

Justin and Brian were sure close, she could tell.

They poked fun at each other but Daphne knew it wasn't real. Her nana had always told her she was great at 'readin folks'. These boy's jokes were not born from hate. They genuinely cared.

She liked how that thought made her feel. She'd become too familiar with both sadness and anger of late. Since she'd grown old enough to understand what she really couldn't understand. People who didn't know her, didn't like her.

She smiled now at Justin who bobbed lazily in the pool beneath Brian's feet. She stood on her own and stretched, glancing at the setting sun. _'Shoot. She had to go.'_ Her mama would be waiting.

"Thanks so much for the swim. You boys are swell, I sure am glad I met ya." Both boys exchanged like sentiments and shared her disappointment in her needed departure.

"Hope to see ya around!" Brian smiled and gave a half wave.

"Count on it." The happy feelings inside Daphne ignited a playful deviance. One usually reserved for her little cousins.

She smirked slyly and with one uninterrupted motion, pushed a surprised Brian off of the diving board.

Into the pool.

And atop one grinning, giggling, Justin Taylor.

* * *

><p><strong>*Excerpt from "The Power of Non-Violence" speech given by Martin Luther King Jr. on June 4th 1957*<strong>

**THE NEED TO BE "MALADJUSTED"**

Modern psychology has a word that is probably used more than any other word. It is the word "maladjusted." Now we all should seek to live a well—adjusted life in order to avoid neurotic and schizophrenic personalities. But there are some things within our social order to which I am proud to be maladjusted and to which I call upon you to be maladjusted. I never intend to adjust myself to segregation and discrimination. I never intend to adjust myself to mob rule. I never intend to adjust myself to the tragic effects of the methods of physical violence and to tragic militarism. I call upon you to be maladjusted to such things. I call upon you to be as maladjusted as Amos who in the midst of the injustices of his day cried out in words that echo across the generation, "Let judgment run down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream." As maladjusted as Abraham Lincoln who had the vision to see that this nation could not exist half slave and half free. As maladjusted as Jefferson, who in the midst of an age amazingly adjusted to slavery could cry out, **"All men are created equal and are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights and that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."** As maladjusted as Jesus of Nazareth who dreamed a dream of the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man. God grant that we will be so maladjusted that we will be able to go out and change our world and our civilization. And then we will be able to move from the bleak and desolate midnight of man's inhumanity to man to the bright and glittering daybreak of freedom and justice.


	14. A Race & An Ideal Place

With fumbling limbs and tumbling thoughts, Brian entered the pool. Justin had not been at all surprised that he'd even managed to fall and flail...gracefully.

Daphne, had been extremely friendly to both of them._ 'Until now'._ Brian thought, but had very little time for startled anger, especially hearing Justin's musical laughter as he returned to the pool's surface.

He had to admit, if only to himself, that the cold water felt soothing on his aching muscles and bruised skin. The same skin had also been the reason that until now, Brian hadn't gotten in the water.

It was one thing for Justin to guess,_ 'Okay, more than guess'_ that Ol' Jack sometimes got a bit carried away with the discipline. Although it was quite another, a deeper, shameful one, to show it off to the world.

Granted it had only been himself, Justin and Daphne, but it had still been too many judging eyes for Brian's liking. And too much pity and care in two of those eyes than he felt he could handle.

So he'd sat. Dry. Imagining the feel of water, it's cooling comfort.

Funny, now that he was in it, he didn't feel exactly cold. Justin's nearly nude form had practically folded in half around him when he'd landed. That body at that angle had Brian slightly hotter than the summer's humidity.

He struggled to find his balance and his breath, but it seemed even the most intuitive of movements had been stunned by Justin's infections giggle.

The sun and moon had completed their trade for the sky. Albeit the blond's smile was threatening to trade back. An endless sunshine to eclipse the night. Few lamp posts illuminated the pool from the surrounding fence.

It was nearly pitch black, but the boy's eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness. They viewed one another now with little effort, neither certain if be it by adjusting with the light, or if by memory. Nevertheless, like that night in Shickle's library, they were alone in the dark.

Brian felt that sinking feeling again. You know the one, where all of his insides began to pull him into the undertow. Anchoring him in the one place he couldn't let himself be...alone in the dark with Justin Taylor.

Hoping now that the pull was merely from his water weighted shirt, he hastily climbed out.

An involuntary moan escaped his lips as his likely bruised ribs helped him up the ladder. He could hear a tiny gasp and the water gently moved. He hadn't needed to glance back to know an over worried Taylor was just a spit distance away.

His instantly sore body began to protest it's extraction from the easing water. For once grateful for the darkness that seemed to always engulf him, Brian lifted his soaked shirt. It'd been a struggle to do so fast without yelping.

Brian was always good at hiding things.

He'd intended to casually toss it aside. To climb back into the water. To not show pain, weakness.

So of course blue eyes had watched every bit of his internal struggle, from but inches away.

Justin stood closely behind Brian. Though wet, the cement still felt warm from basking in the day's sun. He'd known why the brunet had not swam with he and Daphne. Why he now was probably welcoming the night.

The dark was always an ideal place for hiding things.

His eyes swept Brian's bare torso. The bruises he'd only glimpsed, now showed themselves in full. In the shadows the purple had gone. Painted over with an un-nerving black.

He saw Brian tense slightly as he watched Justin's nearing fingertips. He met the wary boy's eyes, held them gently, then let go. "Hey, it makes you look tough." Justin said softly through a confident smirk.

He'd hoped the opposite of 'weak' had been the word to relax the brunet. It'd worked.

Brian offered a dim smile, and did not protest Justin's still nearing hand. When smooth fingertips met Brian's flesh, an unexpected tingle consumed the spot. An electric current buzzed beneath the bruises and inhibitions.

The feeling trickled through Brian like the pool's water still trickled down Justin's body.

It'd been the second time in few days that he'd been confronted with the sight of Justin underwater. It was a vision that had mysteriously healed him. At least for that instant.

He thought not about his soreness. He almost felt nothing. He almost felt too much.

As the blond's fingers lightly glided across the contours of Brian's muscles, Brian's own thought startled him. He found himself wanting to grab the other boy's hand. To take it, hold it to himself where it ached the most.

Just. Over. His. Heart.

Though he was uncertain if it would heal or shatter entirely. A feat it was already attempting as it drummed violently in his chest, soon to be in pieces.

Feeling acutely over exposed, Brian tensed again. Hastily, he stepped back, away from those invasive fingers.

To avoid anymore of this tingling, Brian pushed the echo of the feeling aside and donned a smug grin. "Race ya! Get your ass in the pool." he instructed.

"Don't tell me what to do with my ass." Justin joked before diving in.

Brian, still stood on the cement, trying not to acknowledge the rising heat in his shorts at the thought of Justin's backside. He cleared his throat and threw his own body into the water.

Eager to squelch the heat, erase the tingle.

Justin took a moment to splash Brian in the face the second he'd resurfaced. "So, about this race," the blond chided as he pulled himself to the side, gripping it with one hand. "what do I get when, I mean if, I win?"

Brian pondered his question and answered with one of his own. "What do you want?" he almost stuttered.

His excitement to terror ratio for the blond's answer evened.

"A kiss." Justin announced boldly.

Albeit grateful the boy had not said the word 'another' before his request, Brian grew uneasy. He paused several heartbeats before he managed to speak at all.

He'd decided to brush over Justin's terms as if he hadn't made them. "What do I get when I win?" he started out strong, but the question fizzled out somewhere in the middle.

"A kiss." the buoyant blond boy repeated matter-of-factly.

Before his unwelcome pondering ate him alive, Brian pushed off the pool wall with his feet. He swam forward, full force. Only, much like elsewhere in his life, he felt unsuccessful. Using too much energy to ultimately get nowhere.

When he felt Justin swim past him, he knew he'd lost. That hadn't bothered him nearly as much as his uncertainty.

He wasn't positive, but couldn't rule out that maybe he'd intentionally slowed down at the end.

Maybe he'd wanted Taylor to win.

Maybe he'd wanted to reward him.

Maybe he didn't.

What he had known was that if he kept putting this 'Justin situation' on the back burner, it'd eventually boil over. It'd cover everything. Taylor's biggest mess yet.

_'Why hadn't he contested Justin's race ante'?'_

It should have been easy to not jump in the pool. To not race. To not not refuse a kiss.

But nothing was easy anymore.

A fact blinding with it's bluntness as he now starred into Justin's smiling eyes. As the golden haired race winner inched closer, Brian tried to inch further away. A feat that proved most difficult as he slammed hastily, into the cement barrier.

The wall between freedom and his greatest fear... Justin's lips once more within centimeters of his own.

Brian attempted to talk casually about anything other than the fact that Justin was waiting on his victor kiss. "Are you goin' to the fair tomorrow? Supposed to be fireworks, and neato rides. Yeah, I hear there's gonna be lots.." he heard himself ramble, pausing at the blond's raised eyebrows and damn near twinkling eyes.

He'd also heard an excited eagerness he'd wanted to hide. Justin smiled. He'd heard it too.

A new excited eagerness found Brian...this one not in his chest. He shifted his hips.

"You talk a lot when you're nervous." Justin said confident in his observation.

Brian felt his jumbled thoughts catch with the breath in his throat, he sputtered, "Uh, no. What? Huh. No, I'm not... "

"Do I make you nervous?" Justin interrupted Brian's spurting words of crazy.

Brian swallowed. "I'm not nervous." he tried to sound like he believed it.

Justin apparently hadn't believed him, he swept his eyes over his body. "You're trembling."

"I'm cold, " Brian said defensively "I_ am_ practically naked." he added, immediately deciding he needed to stop talking.

"I noticed." Justin replied, then begin to talk casually about the fair.

He'd said he was goin', was entering a contest of some sort. Brian couldn't know. He was having a hell of a time focusing on the kid's voice.

He knew even less about his own participation in the conversation.

The brunet was intently watching Justin's lips as he spoke; making it difficult to form words.

Justin playfully let his hands skim the surface of the water. His body drifted impossibly closer to Brian's. "Time to collect my winnings. Pay up Kinney." he sterned.

Brian stilled. Once again this tiny blond had frozen him in place. An oxymoronic effect in Brian's opinion. _'How could anyone that exudes so much heat, freeze anything?'_

He'd planned to simply say 'rematch'; but those plans drowned in the pool right along with his hesitation.

Brian could feel his resistance wearing down. Justin's proximity was smoothing all of the brunet's rough edges, like sea to glass.

With help from the sky's night light, Justin watched Brian's rippled torso constricted beneath rippling water. The scent of chlorine and summer wafted into the air with the slight waves he'd made with his hands.

The nearer he got to the tensed up Kinney, Justin could feel the boy's nerves begin to ease. His tanned body unequivocally inviting the closeness of Justin's.

Both boys felt a floating sense not having been from the water enveloping them.

Neither said a word, no hint of protest filled the practically nonexistent space between them.

Only shaking surrender shared their air.

Accepting that in seconds he'd be rewarding Taylor, Brian relaxed. Normally not one for giving in, his heart convinced the rest of him to hold up his end of this deal; although his knees struggled to hold up said heart and everything it controlled.

His eyes took in the boy before him. Justin's pale flesh in the moonlight looked crafted undoubtedly from porcelain.

_'If Justin was made of glass, why then, had Brian felt that he was the one about to break?'_

With building excitement and a shaking foundation, trembling lips constructed a kiss.

This kiss was different from the one in Shickle's library. That had been fast, heated and full of confusion.

Brian parted Justin's lips now slowly with his tongue. Unhurried with much carefulness. Gentle, purposeful and deliberate.

Fully conceding into the other's emotion, they found a rhythm like the motion of water. Diving deeper into one another's mouths. Deeper than any pool would allow. An unending sea.

Both boys closed their eyes.

The dark was an ideal place for hiding things.


	15. Spoonful of Secrets

Big. Bold. Bright.

Those were a few of the adjectives to describe the setting that Brian approached. The annual Copiah County Fair had been in full swing since nine a.m.

Now late evening, Brian Kinney had at last arrived.

He'd been forced to spend the majority of his Saturday playing what he referred to as 'Bomb Squad'. A familiar game in which an almost sober Jack gave Brian a mile long list of chores. Chores he challenged himself to complete without argument, and as quickly as possible.

Not allowing himself to invest in Ol' Jack's clear headed niceties for too long.

Brian knew all too well that it was his job to complete his assignments. To diffuse the ticking time bomb that was Jack Kinney's mood.

Brian Kinney, 'Bomb Squad Elite'. Successfully preventing explosive rampage since...well, for too damn long.

The sun appeared now undecided about it's departure. It lingered warily on the horizon.

Brian reckoned that maybe it was afraid of the dark, or perhaps the sun hadn't wanted to go just yet.

Wanted to savor the moment just a bit longer than allowed.

Brian could relate.

Instinctively his lips tingled, remembering Justin's kiss. Without pause, he swept his gaze around. The burst of color looked even more flamboyant up close than it had from the parking lot where he'd left his bike.

Grand tents and decorated booths filled the massive field on which they stood. Twinkling lights illuminated almost every inch, danced up the sides of games and swooshing rides.

His eyes surged through the sea of color until he saw what he'd been searching for...

...Blond hair glistened in the setting sun. The pot of gold at the end of this rainbow.

He felt his foot step forward, he felt his shoulder pulled back.

"There you are!" Lindsay's voice cheered cheerily.

Brian performed his dramatic exasperation to an audience of no one before painting on a weak smile and turning to face her.

"Couldn't miss your big ta-do." he said lamely.

Being Hazlehurst's Berry Princess came with a surprisingly large quantity of duties. One of which was getting all dolled up and presenting the 'Fourth of July fireworks extravaganza' at this here fair. Exciting, no?

Brian sighed, half out of boredom, listening to Lindz ramble on about her tiara fitting too loosely in her hair. Half out of disappointment that he was now facing _away_ from Justin Taylor.

He was grateful for the most welcome interruption when Mikey and Ben came bouncing buoyantly by.

Brian felt a rare moment of genuine happiness. Happy that his best friend and Bookworm Ben were back on speaking terms.

Brian had always felt a bit guilty for dividing their once tight circle. All because of his own, let's say 'reservations' because Brian doesn't say 'insecurities', about spending so much time with Justin.

Mikey deserved a better best friend. One that wasn't so tightly wrapped up in his own head that he couldn't breathe.

"Hey there's Em and Justin!" Ben's voice unwrapped Brian a little. The group followed the direction of Ben's friendly wave.

_'Copiah Jambalaya Cook-off'_ read the giant letters hanging above one nauseatingly cheerful booth. Several of the day's earlier competitors stood behind tables and hotplates of warming pots.

Brian couldn't say how many pots were present, he noted only Justin.

Approaching the blond's section of the long table, Emmett greeted the group first. "Well, gang's all here." he smiled and patted his best friend's shoulder, "Our little chef here took second place in this little contest. I'm so proud. Go on, show em' your ribbon." he urged.

Emmett was extremely proud of his friend's win, of his Aunt Lula's too. Earlier that afternoon she'd taken first place (for her 30th consecutive year) in the homegrown produce contest for her infamous strawberries.

Once again beating out Culpepper's Pepper Patch. Honeycutt's silent rivals for nearly half a century. Though he'd have to admit their grandson Calvin was quite dreamy.

Justin seemed a little embarrassed by Em's gushing, it took him a moment to react. "Thanks," he replied to everyone's congratulations, "but it's really no big deal." he added, dipping a giant spoon into his prize winning concoction.

Before Brian could protest, he felt the utensil touch his lips. "Have a taste." Justin insisted.

Brian inhaled the aroma of the food; it smelled delicious. He wanted to taste something created by Justin as much as he didn't want to eat a bite served by him.

The action, though innocent, felt too intimate. It spurred thoughts that were everything but innocent.

Brian met Justin's eyes and held it for only an instant. That moment had been blazing with intensity. He shifted his stare to nothing at his right and took the jambalaya into his mouth.

"Too bad I didn't make it yesterday. I'd have won first. It's always better the second day." Justin rambled.

_'It was fantastic.'_ "Not bad." he tried to sound indifferent.

Justin warmed at Brian's words, but felt the chill from the boy's nonchalance. He was obviously acting, pretending they hadn't kissed. Hadn't shared yet another secret with the moon.

He looked around at their friends who were happily chattering and taking small bowls of his creation. Brian had been convincing. Almost good enough to convince Justin himself. _Almost. _

Last night, Justin had fallen asleep with the taste of Brian still intact. He'd entered his dreams fearless and worry free. Upon daybreak, his worry awakened relentless.

He'd wondered non-stop how Brian would behave when they met up.

Would he go back to 'pre-kissed Kinney' delivering unprovoked cruelty? Or worse...would he ignore Justin entirely?

The day had evolved, Brian free for too long. Justin tried not to imagine where the boy had been all day. He knew that each passing moment gave Brian longer to over-think their secrets. More time to pick apart his feelings. To change his mind.

That prospect nearly drove the blond mad. It was only now, he'd relaxed. Just one fleeting look had erased all doubt. The real Brian, the kissed one, remained.

Though he'd shown no sign of him to anyone else; Justin knew he was there. He peered out, over the spoon through the careless façade hazel displayed.

"Justin! Ya ready for me to whup your hiney in ring toss?" an excited Molly interrupted the awkward, yet delicious spoon feeding.

"Whup me?" Justin asked in mocking disbelief, "I don't think so." he finished, stating fact. Molly giggled and grabbed her brother's hand.

For an eleven year old, she sure tugged with the strength of a girl of at least twelve. But Justin's body hadn't budged. Brian's eyes fixed on the tensing muscles keeping him in place; on his forearms, his calves, his neck. Once again reminding him that the boy was no weakling.

As she pulled on Justin, yet another Taylor pulled Brian's attention.

Mother Taylor greeted Brian with a warming smile and quick hug. "My my, Brian Kinney. Haven't seen ya in a while. We've missed having you around the house. Haven't we Molly?" she called to her daughter, who was now blushing a bit but nodding vigorously.

It was true. She'd missed when Brian would play over at her house. Brian had always been nice to her. Out of all of her brother's friends, Brian was the best; and golly was he gorgeous.

Brian sent a shy smile to whoever would receive it but remained otherwise silent. He reacted quietly, being confronted with memories of days gone by. Days he'd spent with yesterday's friend, memories both joyous and saddening.

He'd always loved being around Justin's family. To Brian, the Taylors were what a family was supposed to be.

Ever ready with his too perfect read of Brian's discomfort, Justin filled the void between Brian's true thoughts and lack of words. "Just let me clean this up." he said, beginning to wrap up his utensils and clean his table top.

Jennifer stopped him. "No. Now, let me take care of that sweetheart. You kids go on and play." She took the spoon from Justin's hands and pointed it at him. "I order you to have some fun. Play with your sister, one game." she added for Molly's benefit, who smiled.

"Then bring her back for me to feed her supper. You and your friends enjoy the night. You're more than welcome to join us for the fireworks later. Just promise me one thing...Promise you'll laugh." she waved lightly, then began cleaning up the jambalaya station.

Justin's light laughter tickled the air and Brian was thankful the kid always listened to his mother.

"Well Fellas and Ladies," Emmett announced clearly gearing up for his departure. "Suppose I better mosey on back over to the ferris wheel. I'm in charge of it's operation this year. Was just on a break to help Aunt Lula load her strawberry buffet into the car."

He looked to Brian and then to Justin. "After you boys finish playing the games, come on over. I promise a memorable time. Scout's honor." he giggled and winked in a way that made Brian uncomfortable.

As the rest of the group collectively dispersed, Emmett nearly skipped to his church assigned post at the large colorful attraction.

A very insistent Molly pulled Justin toward her game of choice; although not before the blond had sent Brian an almost apologetic look.

The brunet warmed at the glance. It'd cleary told him that Justin was equally as eager to speak to him.

Pins and needles pricked his flesh, an uncharacteristic nervousness introduced itself to Brian's skin.

_'Relax.'_ he ordered himself._ 'It's only Justin.' _The plan to ease his mind backfired.

The mere fact of who Justin was, was precisely _why_ Brian had been nervous in the first place.

''Oh, let's do the fortune teller!" Lindsay chimed too close to his ear.

Ben and Michael annoyingly matched her enthusiasm.

Brian met Lindsay's eyes and offered a smile. He truly did care for her, just not the way he was supposed to. Expected to.

A rumble of more guilt vibrated his stomach, his silent dilemma hung in the air. Wrapping around him like a storm cloaks the horizon before it hits.

He needed to release her, 'Miss popularity. Hazlehurst's prized catch' into the sea of other fish, for available boys.

Not that he was unavailable. _'Brian Kinney belonged to no-one.'_ He slid Justin's face from his thoughts as he slid his hand into hers.

"Sure." he said simply and proceeded toward a sign reading 'Mysterious Marilyn.'

Inside he trembled with every step. He hoped like hell this gypsy was all show and no substance. Afraid for his secrets to show in any crystal ball.


	16. Predictions & Revelations

They walked through an archway of heavy velvet curtains, the ugly fabric serving no purpose as the rest of the booth had no walls. The fair still circled them.

Brian lent an observing eye around the makeshift majestic hall, home of Mysterious Marilyn.

A long table held a slew of tinted glass bottles. A sign advertised potions a serums, _'Change your life for just $2.00.'_

_'If only.'_ Brian knew if he was to get everything he wanted in life, everything would change alright. But it would certainly cost much more than two bucks.

He looked at the lady...the man, seated at a small wooden table; a deck of cards and colorful jewels set before her...him. He tried not to stare.

Though pretty sure the fortune teller was a man, he didn't assume. After all Hazlehurst harbored it's fair share of less than handsome women. Most of which belonged to his Mother's church group.

Mysterious Marilyn wore an over-the-top gypsy ensemble. Golden sequins flashed in the setting sunlight while she jingled (from what he'd guessed, at least fifty places) as she waved towards them.

She gestured only to Brian to take a seat and for his friends to gather around the table. Reluctant and slightly scared, he put on a brave face and sat down.

Marilyn met Brian's eyes with a quizzical sort of mischief and a tad of what looked like pity. Which Brian hadn't appreciated.

Without actual words, they'd communicated for him to give his hand, palm side up to her. He felt some discomfort being locked between her warm fingers. He felt trapped. Transparent.

In that moment (even if never again) Brian Kinney believed in the magic mumbo-jumbo he'd often mocked. Believed unequivocally that this madame could literally see right through him.

He attempted to hide but of course was only able to slouch in his seat. Not liking the intensity in the teller's eyes, Brian focused on the gems that glittered on the star covered table cloth.

Marilyn traced her fingertip along the creases of Brian's palm. It tickled him a little and worried him a lot.

_'What did he display there?'_ On the hand that had just yesterday held Justin's neck when they'd kissed. Had trailed ever gently to his shoulders, the small of his back underwater.

He tried to shove the memory away and silently willed his palm to hold onto his secrets.

A delicate crease found the palm reader's brow, the motion drawing further attention to her over-made up eyes. Deep violet and gold dusted lids highlighted eyes that Brian was sure had x-ray vision. Had looked through his shirt to the bruises whose colors they matched.

As quick as it'd creased, her skin had again smoothed, she smiled and met Brian's eyes directly. "A gentle soul to find one broken. Two become one. Whole and ever lasting." She said the words like they'd mean something.

Brian just rolled his eyes. He'd been about to pull his hand away and thank her for the dimestore fortune, when Marilyn spoke again.

"True love boy, for you. Is a beautiful blond."

He glanced up at her, certain she'd be eyeing Lindsay, whose hand rested on his shoulder. A cheap parlor trick for sappy teenagers.

Though, come to think of it, Lindsay hadn't looked all too thrilled when Mikey patted her back at this newest revelation. _'Who really believed this true love business anyway?'_ His mind flickered a picture...Two sailors happy, kissing.

When he'd at last looked from his palm to Mysterious Marilyn he'd noticed she was not looking at him _or_ Lindsay. A heaviness weighted his stomach, he tried to un-noticeably follow madame's gaze.

_'Justin.'_ The blond stood in front of the ring toss game booth. His face was focused, arm poised and ready to throw the ring it held.

Brian felt the world shift around him, everything funneled to the one spot where Justin stood. He zoned out of Mikey's chatter and everything else.

For a tiny tick of time, Brian pretended he'd no idea what/who the palm reader was talking about. However, Brian knew he knew. He was not dense. A fact proven by years of studying to keep grades to please both his folks and future colleges. Grades to get him out of the sticks.

He watched the colorful crackpot's 'prediction', stick his tongue out at Molly. His sister appeared to tease him even through the roar of the carnival, her voice carried. Evidently Justin's ring toss skills were a bit rusty. He hadn't won the bear he had wanted.

Molly did a victory dance, her own prized teddy danced within her hands. Brian looked again to the small brown bear, it hung, un-won beside the booth's game master. He could've won it. Brian kicked ass at ring toss.

"Brian." Mikey's voice pulled his focus back to the group. "My turn." Michael had said when his friend finally met his eyes.

"Yeah, sure." Brian mumbled, tossed the gypsy a dime and stood. He'd been grateful to Ben then, the boy was keeping Mikey plenty occupied. The two talked excitedly to Marilyn as Michael took the now empty seat.

Brian moved to the archway, again facing Justin. The blond now played the test your strength game. He gripped the mallet firmly in the slender arms Brian knew were stronger than they looked. He wanted nothing more than to go to him and reclaim some of his strength Justin had taken.

He sucked in a breath, only exhaling when he felt Lindsay's chin on his shoulder. "He really is beautiful." she breathed, the heat of her words brushed Brian's ear. He hadn't needed to turn to know she'd followed his gaze, and meant Justin.

Brian couldn't have felt more bare, had he stood naked. In just four words, Lindsay had stripped him completely.

He shivered under her words, dropped his eyes to the ground. _'Lindsay...knew. Knew everything Brian himself pretended not to.'_

"Brian," she said in a soothing voice, almost smiling. It was the way Claire often addressed him, true and full of heart.

He let himself relax a bit, while she turned him to face her. He did not lift his head.

His gaze felt weighted and chained to the ground. "Don't." he pleaded with desperation and defeat.

In his word, Lindsay had heard the request. He'd surely wanted her to tell him the lie he'd been telling himself. She wasn't going to.

She'd known for some time that she and Brian were not meant to be. She'd known almost as long that his heart couldn't be hers because it already belonged to Justin. She loved Brian, but not the way they'd always pretended. It was because she loved him, like a brother, that she'd helped him pretend at all.

She saw it now, the pain. The fear. The want.

"I know you Brian, you're my best friend." she spoke again.

He finally lifted his eyes, seemingly pulling the world up with them. He felt terrified, nervous and yet somehow relieved. It was a welcomed reprieve peering into her knowing, accepting eyes. He found himself glad that Lindsay shared his heart's secret. He really did love her.

He realized that he'd been silent and hoped he'd hadn't looked as seriously tense as he'd felt. Though it seemed he did as she stood with a building smile,and swatted him on the arm.

"It's a festival Kinney, get festive!" she laughed genuine, normal. Brian smiled at the ease of which she'd just let him go, had said so much though she had barely spoken.

She lifted on her toes and kissed his cheek. Lifting slightly too, his burden and his spirits.

''Gonna be dark soon. Fireworks time." She announced, her country twang hitting hard on the _fire_.

He watched her wave to Mikey and Ben (who were know focused heavily on a tarot card reading), and skipped away. The ruffle of her skirt swished as she went, Brian's heart swished a little too.

His eyes relocated Justin and went to the booth farthest away from him. Justin stood beside a handful of games he hadn't played.

Molly had beaten him plenty for one evening. Surely she'd collected enough ammunition for a solid week's worth of teasing. His focus just wouldn't stay on carnival games, or even on his little sister's taunts.

Brian had officially moved into Justin's brain. He'd plopped his cute behind and all his baggage down right smack dab in the middle of his concentration.

He looked up to see his mama makin' her way through the crowd. He sighed, unexpectedly grateful. It was not that he didn't enjoy spending time with Molly, but here the day was nearly done and he hadn't spent time with Brian; not really.

Nevertheless, he'd been acutely aware of the boy's every move since he'd tasted his Jambalaya. Justin had watched, envious, Brian hold Lindsay's hand. Had seen him sit before the fortune teller. The eccentric medium's palm enclosed his.

Justin's own jealous hand nearly ached from the absence of Brian's fingers. He glanced from his hand to his mama's waving one.

"Ready to eat baby girl?" Jennifer smiled warmly and smoothed her daughter's hair.

The girl blushed a little and pulled away from her Mother's grooming. Justin eyed the action suspiciously. Molly wasn't the easily embarrassed type. Her bashful demeanor soon made sense when Justin heard Brian's voice.

The Taylors had exquisite taste in boys.

"Hey." Brian's voice touched Justin along with his hand, the brunet nudged their shoulders together. "I think you uh, dropped this back there."

Justin followed Brian's words and his eyes. Looking down, he saw what he'd been offered. A teddy bear. More specifically, the very bear Justin hadn't won.

_'Brian had watched him too.'_

The blond was simply beaming, it was a sight that paused Brian's thoughts.

He had used a quarter of the allowance Jack had paid today to play ring toss. It had only taken one turn for him to win the bear. He guessed you really could get something easily if you wanted it bad enough. At least, he hoped so.

"Thanks." Justin spoke the word in front of his family lightly. His eyes told Brian so much more.

Here he was, Brian Kinney, being downright sweet, dangerously adorable, in public. Daring to be, Justin thought, romantic in plain sight. It was somehow more meaningful that nobody even knew it.

Molly's eyes found the bear. "Heeey," she started but was unable to finish her thought. Assuming she'd pout about Justin having not really 'won' the bear, Brian went to her side.

"Hey'a Mollusk." he grinned and ruffled her hair. Jen and Justin both noticing the contrast in reaction to the same touch from her mother. They both smiled.

Molly looked like her legs could barely hold her. She giggled, "Hey again Brian."

Jen looked to Brian with kind eyes. The boy had shared most of his childhood with her son. Most of the memories happy ones. She didn't pry into Justin's life unnecessarily, but always kept attuned to it. She had known for some time that there'd been a rift in their friendship. She also knew they'd work it out. At sixteen everything was always 'the end of the world' dramatic. Though none of it everlasting.

She smiled now, pleased to see she'd been right. The two looked now as close as ever. It warmed her to see Justin's eyes flicker again, from a light only Brian could shine in them. "You boys are welcome to join us for supper before the fireworks." she offered again.

"Thanks ma'am. I'm not quite hungry yet." Brian replied, always proper. With a genuine politeness Jen knew his mother only mimicked.

Jennifer eyed the quick look exchanged between the boys and could tell _'they didn't want to hang out with a mom.'_. She sighed, smile firmly in place, "Well Molly they're just too cool for us." she said pulling her daughter along.

Justin rolled his eyes and leaned to kiss her cheek. Trying to prove he wasn't embarrassed. Proof enough. _'Oh how she loved this kid'_.

As he pulled back from his mother, Justin stumbled a little. His hand used a nearby game to regain stability.

"Well, you fellas have fun tonight." Jen offered, her eyes catching the brightly lit booth behind them. "You boys used to love the house of mirrors." she said. "Wouldn't that be fun?" she waved lightly, turned, Molly's hand in hers.

Brian turned to face Justin again. In doing so his hand inadvertently rested on the metal palm plate.

The plate atop the game in which Justin's hand also rested.

The game marked _'Test Your Love!'._

Too soon to stop them, bright lights skyrocketed upward. An obnoxiously loud bell sounded and the lights blinked. _'Red Hot Love'_ it displayed to anyone who was watching. Thankfully nobody seemed to be.

Most of the crowd was off finding spots to picnic and watch the fireworks. Simultaneously bashful and quick, both boys withdrew their hands.

"So...the house of mirrors." Justin changed the unspoken subject.

"Sounds fun." Brian answered, irritated that his voice had cracked.

Starting toward the _'Hall of Mirrors'_, Brian pushed into Justin's shoulder with his. He looked and nodded to the bear he held, "So, what are you gonna name him?"

Justin's nose crinkled in concentration, Brian yearned to kiss it.

"Gus." the blond answered after a silent second.

"Gus." Brian repeated, "That's a nice strong name."

Justin nodded and bumped shoulders back.

Both boys had felt a new lightness in the air around them.

The short trek to the mirrors, over too soon. Goosebumps met Brian's skin at the entrance to the quiet, seemingly empty attraction.

"Follow me." Justin instructed.

Brian did. As if he could've done anything else.


	17. Distortion

**Distortion**/dis·tor·tion/_noun_. - A change in the shape of an image resulting from imperfections...

Brian looked into the curved red mirror, his self looked back.

Hazel bore through the reflective surface, rippled and askew. He stood for a moment just staring at his distorted form.

His torso too long, his limbs too short.

It was not the first time he had viewed himself wrongly. For the last few years, Brian had seen in his reflection, a boy other's had not.

Often he felt as if there were two separate Brians. Much to the way there were (unmistakably) two Jack Kinneys.

Two Brians. One hovering lightly above the next. One who said and did all he was expected to. One who still believed in wishes, irrevocable honesty.

Generally, the two moved flawlessly merged, now they did not. Here in front of a flimsy funhouse mirror, Brian could see them both. He'd felt them as well.

Though something was different now.

Maybe it was the residual excitement left by earlier visitors to the 'Hall of Mirrors'.

Maybe it was the fact that everyone had settled for the fireworks, and he and Justin were alone.

Or maybe it was simply because Brian had just _wanted_ things to be different. Had chosen to show Justin the other Brian he always kept hidden.

Being around the blond had become both punishment and reward. An intense need to be near him was further complicating an already confusing situation.

His plans to keep Justin at a safe distance this summer was failing miserably. The thought of not being close to him...hurt...

...but he didn't want to let it.

Justin's infectious giggle broke through any pain.

Glancing up, Brian saw the other boy dancing playfully in the mirror beside him. His reflection short and wide. It's bright blue trim framed him like one of the drawings Justin used to make in their treehouse.

His blue eyes found Brian's through the glass. He wondered if the brunet also felt the heat burning in that gaze. He stopped mid-dance and winked at Brian.

He enjoyed seeing a blush brush Brian's face for once. Even in the dim lights, something like embarrassment shined. Brian tried to recover quickly, but they both knew he was fooling no one.

"Alright, Chubby Checker," Brian looked at Justin's ever widening reflection again, "Onward to the maze." he said cheerily. He'd attempted a regal accent, but was unable to fully conceal his Mississippi twang. He turned, and Justin grinning, followed him...onward to the maze.

The mirror maze was a series of rectangular mirrors and clear plexi-glass walls. Practically impossible to decipher which was which until you ran into one.

Prominent vanity lights lined every surrounding inch. Bright white, round bulbs lighting the way to dead ends, nowhere, and somewhere, the exit.

Mirrors reflected other mirrors, extending the boys' images in a never ending sequence. Like carefully aligned dominoes they used to play with.

One rainy spring, they'd managed to set up four entire boxes around Brian's bedroom. Hours of work for a swift moment of smooth, unhitched toppling glory. It was a memory Justin held close. Back when they could spend days in easy, comfortable togetherness.

He studied Brian now, the endless spray of beauty twinkling in the lights.

Justin suddenly pictured the paper dolls he'd often cut for Molly. Unfurling shapes, each as perfect as the next.

Justin felt it somehow fitting, seeing the real Brian, fractured. It was the way he'd always seen him, multi-layered, fragmented. But the physical display gave him a sense of validity.

One Kinney after another...

...and Justin loved them all.

Brian felt a nervous excitement build on his skin. A burst of energy rippled within him, a widening smile made his face ache. But it couldn't be helped. He was happy.

"Come and find me Taylor." he challenged, wickedness dancing in his eyes. His heart dancing in his chest. He turned on his heels and used his hands to encase himself within the transparent maze.

Justin steadily observed the walls around him, gauging his projected path. Brian's reflections twirled around him in all directions. His breathed laughter echoed from the same.

"You just wait til' I find you Kinney." he said with mock authority.

"Uh-huh." Brian responded with a dismissive flick of his wrist. He caught a glimpse of Justin turning the corner. The _real_ corner where he stood, and stilled.

The soft white glow bathed his skin like spilled milk. Something like a purr crept through Brian's throat, he swallowed it. The pause, allowed Justin ample time to approach.

"Gotcha." he whispered, his eyes narrowed on Brian; whose tongue licked his bottom lip. The cat eager to lap the cream of Justin's skin.

With only a moments effort, Justin was positioned directly in front of him. Brian pressed his palms to the mirror behind him. Trapped. Cornered. Albeit, he had no desire to escape.

They stood, nothing but a breath between them. A breath of steadily increasing heaviness, depth. They shared that wisp of air until it became like a physical presence between them. Air rich enough to sip, dense enough to caress.

Justin was close enough then for Brian to see each individual eyelash. Tiny tips of paintbrushes spilling the blue of his eyes.

He could see himself centered in their glistening pupils. Peering into his eyes he felt as if there were undiscovered wonders waiting within them. Perhaps there were.

They stayed silent, focused, un-touching. Two figments conjured from a dream. As if only a touch could make the moment real.

Brian let out a sigh of emotion he didn't understand. Justin's eyes followed that sigh from adam's apple to legs. From throat to breath.

He relished this feeling. This sort of assertive prowess he used to pin Brian in place.

He'd found immeasurable relief in Brian's diminishing guard. He was crumbling his wall with the weight of his stare.

Em's Aunt Lula had once said _'When someone won't let you in, eventually you stop knocking.'_ He was glad Brian had at last answered.

Now that he was allowed to touch him, it's all Justin wanted to do.

He felt Brian giving way, melting toward him. His foot slipped forward, his knee grazed Justin's and settled against it.

Justin lifted one hand. Searching fingers found the collar of Brian's T-shirt, lightly tracing thread. Brian felt heat seep through the fabric.

Soon Justin's palm lay flat against his chest. Justin loved the feel of the brunet's muscles through the cotton. Though he'd seen the boy's bare chest many times, somehow this felt more intimate. Special. Like he was permitted to share a secret Brian kept contained.

He let his hand rest a moment, savoring the feel; like a cherished memory in the making. After the pause, trailing fingers met the hem of Brian's shirt. The small of his smooth back.

Beneath his touch, the boy trembled like a blossom in the breeze. His fingertips dusted up Brian's spine, like a whisper; they spoke to the curves of his back. A dip. A gentle grazing.

Be it they were virtually motionless, both boys' pulses raced. Accelerated breaths.

Brian blinked slowly, his eyes connecting to blue as they peeked through feathered lashes. He knew Justin was going to kiss him. And he wanted him to.

One of Justin's hands held Gus, the other was snaking it's fingers into Brian's.

With the gesture Brian could feel the blond pulling him out of himself. Tugging out his truth with gentle grace.

Their eyes locked and Brian's lips parted. Knowing there was so much that Justin was seeing. Could see_ into_ him. All the way down to how he felt about him. However that was. Not yet named but surely present.

A flash of contradiction pulsed through him. He felt sort of happy and sad at the same time.

He couldn't be near this kid without feeling things. Without feeling _everything_.

He was under a magnifying glass. Justin's sunshine searing a hole clear through him.

"Brian." Justin breathed. It sounded like a lyric to a beautiful song. To Brian, it was a soft voice calling him home. A voice he wanted to both shout his name from rooftops and whisper it in the dark.

"Justin." he swallowed.

A space between them, so small a space, charged like sparks searing a path in the air. Kindled it.

Brian fought back a shiver when Justin's thumb traced a light circle from his brow to his temple. The shiver broke through when the blond's smooth cheek brushed his jaw.

He practically yelped when Justin kissed the soft skin beneath his ear. Oh, how he trembled when he kissed him there.

About to completely unravel, the sound of laughter tied him tight. The boys pulled apart, seconds later a group of young children came fumbling into the maze. Their giggles the only sound to accompany pounding hearts.

The hall of mirrors suddenly felt too small. Everywhere Brian looked he saw his reddened face. His heart. His want. He dropped his head in a rush to find the floor, away from his own prying eyes.

He was loosely aware of Justin pushing him toward the exit. The maze deposited them back into the night. The fresh air welcomed by flushed faces.

"Justin!" Emmett's voice carried through the carnival. The older boy was frantically waving. His smile widened as they approached. He gestured toward the Ferris wheel with his entire body. "I promised you two a ride." he said with a twinkle in his eyes, brighter than the ride's glowing lights.


	18. Rainbow Rain

Brian lifted his head toward the sky. It waited patiently for the fireworks to begin.

The top of the Ferris wheel was high. Really high. His tummy turned a touch at the thought.

"Oh boy, what a swell view it'll be from the top!" Justin exclaimed.

"Remarkable." Emmett said simply not moving his eyes from Brian.

Brian felt Justin tug on the sleeve of his shirt. "Come on!" he squealed. The brunet wished he'd stop talking in exclamation points.

"It's really up there." Brian almost whispered. Funny he couldn't remember being afraid of heights.

Noticing his hesitation, Em spoke. "Ferris wheel rules. No single riders."

Brian breathed a puff of thought. He pointed to the stuffed toy in Justin's grasp. "Gus'll love it?" More of a question than a suggestion.

Emmett jerked the bear away and patted it's tiny head. "No can do. Teddy's are notoriously afraid of heights."

Justin giggled. Brian frowned.

"Now, get your bottoms up top!" Emmett laughed, shoving them into the swinging cart before them.

It was yellow. The color of sunshine and...chickens.

Brian attempted to unravel his nerves as they slowly ascended towards heaven. Where angels lived. Or where you might go after you, say, plummeted to your death on a rickety ride.

Justin felt the anxiety radiating from Brian. In effort to help, he crept his hand toward his. Without pause Brian entwined his fingers.

Justin rested his head on the other boy's shoulder. It connected with a thud. The ride had stopped. Emmett's voice overpowered the excitement around them. "Sorry folks, technical difficulties."

Justin felt Brian tense beside him, he leaned over to look down at Em. Not surprisingly, the boy was looking at them. His smile was blinding.

He shot the blond a wink and began to casually (slowly) thumb through his magazine. Without even a glance to the control box he spoke, "Looks stuck. I'm on it. Sit tight ya'll. Enjoy the fireworks."

Justin bit back a grin and shook his head. "What timing." he turned to Brian who was now clenching his hand tightly. "Might as well get...comfortable." he tried to sound as flirtatious as possible. He hadn't had much to learn from.

Brian's raised eyebrow and un-contained smirk told him it had held the right amount of 'flirt'.

In all directions they could see the world, though it could not see them. Somewhere in the distance, Lindsay's voice announced the show was about to begin.

Simultaneously every light around them went out. Leaving the boys in the familiar embrace of their old friend, the dark.

A small burst of red sparked the sky. A spray of flashes filled the night. A cadence of detonations rumbled around Copiah county.

Everything fell back, fading into the background. The silhouette of the surrounding farmland and forest wrapped itself around the fair.

Rainbow rain.

Justin withdrew his hand from Brian's. Boldly, he decided to let his fingers explore. Testing their ever-changing boundaries, his touch began on Brian's knee. Traveled to the hem of his shorts. He paused. Brian forgot to breathe.

The brunet hid his fear in silence. He hoped his insecurities weren't as obvious to Justin as they were to him.

He came to the sudden realization that he could no sooner resist the kid than the tide could resist the moon. A traitorous moon that hung mostly darkened tonight. No extra beam illuminated their very close, very blackened space.

He wished he could better see Justin's hands. He was petrified to see Justin's hands.

Gentle, yet such greedy hands that had just found the button on his wranglers. He tried to find a meditative focus. Needed to look anywhere but into blue.

"Look me in the eyes..." Justin breathed hot against his ears.

_'No.' 'Yes.'_ He did. The intense gaze evoked a little huff of breath from both of them. Roughened with want. Laced with need.

"...and tell me you don't want me to." Justin finished through suddenly dry lips. He licked them. Brian shivered. A small shiver of sin.

He couldn't say he didn't want Justin to touch him. That he hadn't wanted him to do so for longer than he could accurately recall.

There'd be no honesty in protest. So, he offered none.

Instead he slid his hip forward and tucked his lips inward. Ensuring they didn't spill words to make Justin's hand leave his waist.

Their eyes remained locked, their voices hushed as their hands pulled and positioned Brian to move to a more accessible angle. A half exposed Brian excited and terrified both of them.

Fireworks waltzed with the stars. Fingertips danced on flesh.

Dangerous temptation whispered on Brian's skin.

Justin's grip tightened around Brian's most private of places. He was certain he was harder than he'd ever been. The newly added pressure caused his eyes to snap from Justin's.

His head fell back. He willed himself to stay quiet. Something like a muffled cry. Only but an echo of a sound.

Licks of heat rippled throughout him.

His mind, his heart, Justin's too, the sky...all screamed their secrets.

Swirling colors and sensations they hadn't known could exist. Brian felt like the heat of Justin's motions could consume him. In that moment, he prayed that it would.

Justin quickened his pace, slid his grip as fast as he could manage. The anguish for release on Brian's face excited him. It was almost too much to handle, that he was the one giving Brian such pleasure.

Brian's heart beat at a dangerous rhythm. His restraint held on by a thread, the thinnest string keeping him tethered to to the world. Surely this feeling was too perfect to exist in reality.

Justin's touch was a wish he'd made for years. Long overdue but well worth the wait.

He felt that lone thread slowly unravel. It spooled into the night, matching the speed of Justin's hand.

He swallowed a moan. The thread snapped. He fell harshly back to earth. He opened his eyes.

Justin was panting a little and smiling a lot. Brian wanted nothing more than to dive deep into his mouth. He couldn't. Their faces visible to the night.

To Brian's surprise everything remained unfazed. Unchanged. Only the two of them were altered.

They had been stranded in a secret place and called it a world. But it had not been another world, but merely a hiding place.

Surely it was already a dream.


	19. Beautiful Blasphemy

The choir sang, the voice of conformity and peace. God's words, intended to lead Hazlehurst's holy rollers in the right direction.

Brian chose to remain seated in his church pew. He'd had little desire to stand up and sing his way into heaven. After last night, after roaming, fierce hands, Brian had hardly slept.

This particular Sunday's service seemed to arrive too soon. In his mind, it was still yesterday. At the moment, he was simply too damn tired to walk down the path to salvation.

He slouched in his seat, giving his attention to the only person he had noticed all morning. Despite the great turn out for the sermon, Brian had seen no one. No one beside the blond headed angel singing at the alter.

Of course, he knew there were others present. His family, the entire choir, members of the congregation, even Father Tim filled the tiny church. But Brian hadn't seen any of them, not really. Not like he'd viewed Justin.

His every sense was heightened, the blond calling to him with but merely his presence. Brian was directly drawn to golden locks, those strong, sensuous hands (a little groan melted in his throat), and those soft, _'so damn soft' _lips.

It was suddenly hotter than Hell in Heaven's house.

He felt his mother's rough grip urging him upward. Reluctantly, Brian stood.

She was always trying to 'fix' him. To Brian, this just reiterated the fact that he was broken.

Joan assumed steady church goin' would help drive out every dark impulse within herself or her family, that failed to fit into her ideals.

_'If only she'd known that he'd moved on from petty vandalism and truancy.' _Moved to ferris wheel …rides, and secret kisses in the dark.

Neither of which felt very wrong at the moment. In all honesty, they'd been the only times in Brian's recent life that he'd felt altogether whole.

A foreign surge of contentment rippled through him. He allowed the feeling to spend a moment or two with him. A welcomed stranger to eclipse his usual loneliness.

Brian was sick of feeling weighed down by his emotions. He longed for the freedom he'd felt last night atop the fair.

Positioned high above the whole world and yet somehow seated right beside it, in that Ferris wheel car.

Nothing but sky and possibility stretched above him.

An empty space vast enough for those invisible wings Justin had used to lift him away from all that was painful and difficult.

Wings almost as gentle and soft as those lips. Almost.

Soaring straight into that sky… and possibility.

He felt as if he belonged safely tucked away there, encircled within that imaginary wingspan.

Brian almost wanted to tell his mother as much right then.

He didn't. Somehow, he doubted he ever would. Already she didn't relate to her son.

Religion was supposed to sterilize him, bit by bit. Exorcise the pieces that his mother didn't understand.

She'd refused to learn that those dark bits of his soul were an important part of him.

They were the parts that enabled him to recognize true angels (he glanced at Justin), from false prophet with a wine habit (he looked back to Joan).

Following a look of annoyance, surely too evil to impress God, she returned to her hymn. Brian returned his eyes to the choir.

His whole life, Saint Joan had insisted that each new dawn was a gift from the Lord.

Now he was convinced she'd been wrong.

The sun rose and fell with the angel with the blues eyes.

Whose blond hair and pale flesh stole his breath, whose voice delivered delicate shivers, whose touch evaporated him into a heavy fog of eternal bliss.

The angel who was surely sending him straight to hell.

Justin Taylor, Beautiful blasphemy.

Entranced with possibility, Brian hadn't noticed the service conclude. His attention was pulled by the shuffling beside him. On one side, Joan stood talking to Debbie in front of her. On the other, Michael smacked Brian's knee.

"You awake?" he chuckled and stood to stretch. "I swear Father Tom's superpower is boring you to death."

Brian tossed him a genuine grin and stood too. He craned his neck a little, and saw Justin looking good in his Sunday best, no longer hidden behind that choir robe. He was already leaving beyond the heavy doors that led outside.

As he was forced to wait, impatiently, for what seemed like all of Hazlehurst to pour out from their pews before him; Brian risked a glanced back at his own.

Just a subtle check, to see if his soul had singed the wood. It remained as dull brown and unblemished as ever.

Claire walked past their row and sent him and Mikey a fleeting smile. Following her with his eyes, he watched as his sisters eyes virtually light up when they rested on her new boyfriend. Brian looked at his feet which were finally moving toward the door. All the while hoping his own eyes didn't light up so _so _obviously when he looked a t Justin.

Finally, the late morning breeze graced his face. A welcomed caress.

Without searching, Brian spotted Justin. He stood at the bottom of the steps, his hands wildly animated as he talked.

The sun must've noticed Justin too, for his hair was basked in its rays. A halo of gold.

As equally easy to spot was Emmett Honeycutt in his pink pants. At that moment, Justin caught Brian's stare and waved him over .He took the steps two at a time.

Upon reaching the boys, Brian had realized they were not alone. Behind Emmett, stood a tiny wisp of woman wearing a stunning smile and a hat larger than her. Aunt Lula. She was a bit notorious around Hazlehurt. Rumor had it she owned over half of the town.

Lula's soft summer dress blew gently in the breeze; giving the flower pattern on the fabric a realistic effect. The older woman wore very little make up but an excessive amount of jewelry. Brian counted at least three necklaces and twice as many bracelets. A vibrant brooch and clustered earrings completed the look. The rhinestones that adorned her made her glitter in the sun .Brian smiled, realizing from where Emmett must get his sparkle.

"Brian Kinney!' Lula crooned "I remember when you were just knee high. Sneaking off with my strawberries when you thought I wasn't lookin'."

Without warning, she pulled him into a hug. He felt his shoulders move first, the rest then followed. She pulled back a bit, "I'm always looking." She finished with a wink and released him.

Already he missed the scent of her peach colored dress. She'd smelled of sugar and fresh laundry on the line. She pulled off her gigantic hat and patted her forehead with a delicate cloth from her bag.

Her hair had a bluish tint further deepened by the sun. Maybe it was a result from too many hours at the hairdressers. Or maybe she'd only wished for it to match her eyes. Which it did.

Her eyes were a pale blue. Not stark like Justin's, but pretty. Within them rested specks of silver. Almost like tiny medals displaying her age and wisdom proudly. Not unlike the pins decorating Ol' George Shickles' military uniform. They were kind eyes, gentle and seemed to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

She wiped her face once more and fanned herself with her hat. Brian felt brief traces of wind at it's movement. He closed his eyes for a second to savor it.

The first thing they saw once reopened were Emmett's pants. Brian gave a quiet chuckle to the air but kept a loud one for himself.

"Nice pants Honeycutt." He offered. His words did not come out as mocking as he'd expected. He supposed he was actually impressed. Emmett was never afraid to be himself. No apologies. No regrets.

Seemingly surprised but pleased at Brian's sincerity, Emmett smiled and spun in a circle. "I know aren't they perfect? I have Aunt Lula to thank for this ensemble." He came back around full circle and stopped on his heels. He swayed a little to steady himself.

"Clumsy me spilled some strawberry wine on them last night. I thought for sure I'd done done it. But She wasn't angry at all. Just dipped them right up in a big ol' bowl of wine and dyed them to desired pink-age." Emmett spoke of his aunt with such affection. Brian wondered what it would be like to have a parent he believed in that much.

Lula laughed. It was a sweet sound that seemed to leap into the day like a bird taking flight from a branch. "Oh heavens honey! There's worse problems in this world than the color of your britches."

The old woman's proud smile found her nephew. Though barely eighteen, Emmett was one of the strongest men she'd ever known. Raised with ridicule by even his own parents, he'd still developed a toughness the bravest soldier would envy. Much like herself, the boy was as honest with his words as he was with his heart.

Even the skilled hands of her late husband, Hiram couldn't have carved him into anything else. If you were to whittle him down, Emmy would be sweet and genuine to the core. He was only ever himself and she loved him for it.

The week before his seventh birthday, Emmett's father, Lula's arrogant brother, accepted a job offer on the West coast. Never since had she felt as angry and joyous at the same time, as she had when his own mother hardly put up a fight to keep him.

From the second the child had asked, Lula was more than happy to let him stay with her in Mississippi. The Honeycutt roots were in Hazlehurst. And Lula believed you bloomed the strongest where you're planted. Void of the weeds that strangled him, Emmett thrived.

She saw a lot of that same strength in Justin. Emmett's best friend and truly a kind friend to Lula herself.

She had not been as surprised as she was supposed to be when the Kinney boy approached them. She had seen it at the fair and again today in mass; the way Brian gazed at the little blond when he thought nobody was lookin'. Lula was always lookin'.

"Emmett honey, why don't you invite your friends to come eat some lunch." She spoke without looking at him, her eyes smiled at Justin, "What do ya say, you fellas mind sharin' a meal with an old woman?"

"What are we havin?" The blond responded with the casualness of family, and slug his arm around Lula's narrow shoulders.

"Sandwiches. My vines have grown enough tomatoes to feed an army," she smirked and poked Justin's belly, "or even you."

"We'd love to." Justin answered for both of them. Brian shuffled his feet and gave an awkward grin. He usually went to the diner after church, but he thought it'd offend the woman if he declined. At the same time he nodded his head he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You ready to go eat?" Michael offered his scheduled invite. He watched Mikey glanced back and try to hide a grin. Following his head he saw Ben standing beside Debbie, he too was beaming. "Actually, we're going to Emmett's place for lunch."

"Oh. Cool. No problem. See ya later." The boy streamed the sentence already headed back the way he'd come. Brian was a little disappointed that Michael wasn't disappointed.

But then again, it was good to see the kid branching out his tree of friends. It was even better he was now going to see Justin a while longer. He knew Joan wouldn't deny him going if he asked in front of so many of her friends.

"You guys wanna ride with us?" Emmett asked taking his aunt's small hand.

"No thank you, I've got to let my mom know where I'll be. You go on ahead," Justin looked at Brian before continuing. "Brian and I will catch up in a little while."

Brian certainly liked that Justin had bought them even more alone time. Very much he looked forward to a quiet summer walk with Taylor.

They watched as Emmett and Lula almost skipped toward the parking lot. An off key, loud verse of 'She'll be comin' round the mountain.' twisted in the breeze.

Brian hoped that maybe, one day, if just for a moment, he could be that content. Comfortable enough to just…be.


	20. Melt in the Sun

After having gotten permission from Joan to stay out until supper, Brian lost track of Justin. He'd last seen him walking toward his family's car. Brian knew that Mrs. Taylor kept a spare outfit at the ready for Justin and his sister. Most probably he was off somewhere changing into play clothes.

Joan was much less prepared or concerned. "Don't get dirty." Was about all she'd said. Not spoken, but clearly implied were the words "Or you father will be angry."

A father who was nowhere to be found. Though Jack often demanded everyone was to do as he said, he seldom followed such rules. Every Sunday was the same. His mother would ask the old man if he was going to church with the family. "You go on." Was the usual response or "He had things to do." _Things_ that involved avoiding said family.

On a small patch of ground beside the steps, Brian finished rolling up his dress pants and stuffing his socks into his shoes. He liked the feel of lush grass beneath his bare feet. It felt good. It felt like Summer.

"Lookin' good Tom Sawyer." Justin's voice appeared. Brian's brain grabbed quickly the phrase 'lookin' good'.

He felt a little embarrassed as he eyed Justin's soft cotton shirt and cut off shorts. Justin now had the knowledge that Brian's mother didn't care enough to plan ahead. "Yeah, yeah." He grumbled, loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves.

"I'm sure Emmett's got something you can borrow at the house." Justin offered, once again answering a question Brian hadn't asked. Brian gave a small thankful nod and picked up his shoes.

Even with a steady breeze, it was humid. Excited exclamations from Molly and younger kids accompanied the calliope music of the ice cream truck. Never one to drive past a gathering of children, the Good Humor man pulled into the church parking lot.

Just the idea of something frozen made everyone feel cooler. Without discussion both boys joined the rapidly forming line. Walking beside Justin, not for one second did Brian mind the burning asphalt under his feet.

Brian had to admit he was eager for something chocolate. At home, very seldom were sugar extras awarded. A portion of Jack's earnings always funded his parents alcohol needs. He ate well, but specialty snacks came on special occasions or from Debbie's generosity.

Turning to face the good humor man, Justin retrieved his money. He was about to take a step forward but stopped when he saw the brunet pull out a small pocketful of change. He smiled and felt goose-bumps on the back of his neck.

Justin knew the rarity of Kinney getting money. Every spare coin went to his parents first, his smiled dimmed at that thought. It lightened again upon feeling Brian pushing his hand down.

The boy was willing to spend his hard saved cents on Justin. Sure, to most it was just a small gesture, though to Justin It was very big gesture indeed. The blond knew from past experience that Brian was not on a steady allowance. Many times Justin had paid for their fun and their trouble. Never once had he made a thing out of it, so he wouldn't now.

Justin was always considerate.

He crumpled his weekly dollar back into his pocket, "I'll get the next one." He said. Brian brushed the declaration off, ordered and handed a bar to Justin. A silent hand of gratitude joined in unwrapping their treats.

Their walk was a quiet one; small satisfied sounds shared the summer air. Both boys content in the silence, comfortable and uncomplicated.

Brian had returned his shoes to his feet once they'd found tougher terrain. Heavy underbrush from Shickle's forgotten property line started not long after Pitts Creek Bridge.

It ended on one side, (many acres away) at Lula's strawberry fields. The other, touched the farm of the eccentric Mr. Woody, moonshine distillery extraordinaire. Brian recalled his father had once said the man was a 'drunk with too few oars out of the water'; though Brian didn't think Jack had any room to judge ones drinking habits.

The boys had once visited this tiny bridge with Justin's father. He, Justin, Michael and Craig had spent the day trying to score the biggest catch. In the end, Brian reeled in a four pounder and rubbed that victory in the whole walk home. He remembered that moment fondly, how Mr. Taylor seemed so proud of him, an emotion his own dad didn't often show.

A canopy of tree tops touched like fingertips, Knee high blades of grass whispered to each other, awaiting their fate to become hay. The warmth of the sun pressing upon their backs forced them toward their ice cream.

Brian liked the hot and the cold. Though not a stranger to the juxtaposition (Jack too often operated within both settings), this was nice. Justin seemed to agree. A few times Brian had glanced over to see the blond walking with his eyes closed, letting his thoughts warm themselves.

He hadn't seemed to notice Brian staring at him or he pretended not to. Either way, it felt welcomed. He knew he would remember his face in this moment always, carved like commandment to stone.

With four eyes not watching their step, four feet stumbled. "Oopsy daisy." Justin laughed, looking down at the train track they'd ventured to. His voice made Brian reverse his position on liking the quiet.

"Oopsy Daisy?" Brian mocked through a smile, "Geek." He added playfully. Justin stuck his tongue out and Brian wanted to lick it. He licked his ice cream instead. It wasn't nearly as sweet as option one.

After just a few steps balancing on the raised tracks, they wordlessly agreed to sit; legs touching both warmed steel and each other's flesh.

"Geek? That's a big word from someone with a _trinket collection_." Justin said pushing shoulders with Brian.

Brian had no response to that. He was not wrong. He'd often taken small tokens from what he considered big moments in his life. Cheesy a hobby as it was, he'd done it as long as he could remember.

"Remember when we first learned the train would squish our pennies?" Justin asked, they both smiled at the memory.

"I bet you still have that penny."

Brian did.

"Geek." The blond added with a smirk and licked his rapidly softening good humor bar.

Slouched shoulders still propping each other up, the boys turned toward each other.

Close enough that Justin could see the sun reflecting the tiny gold specks in Brian's eyes. It'd been so long since he'd been able to look at those eyes without them turning cold or closing completely. Right now, they were as warm and as inviting as they'd ever been. He was finally allowed to look as long and as hard as he wished. So he did.

Brian had no choice but to hold Justin's gaze. Those blue eyes were holding onto his with all of the strength he didn't feel. The sunlight was hitting the blond's hair just so, seemingly reflecting it back to the sky.

He almost convinced himself that Justin was as witchy as the fortune teller at the fair. _'True love boy, for you. Is a beautiful blond.' _ Mysterious Marilyn's voice whispered to his memory.

The longer they sat there, the more Brian Kinney was considering the unimaginable. With each ticking second, ridiculousness was creeping up on him. Justin Taylor was achieving the impossible; Brian was once again starting to believe in make believe, wishes and bullshit.

A single bead of sweat trickled from Justin's brow. Brian watched it'd descent as long as he could, but his eyes got stuck somewhere in the mouth region. It was not a bad place to be.

Ice cream clung to his plush lips, a small smear on his left cheek. His chin too, Brian noted, also contained proof he didn't need…Justin was messy.

He felt the blond watching him watch his mouth. The mouth Spoke. "Delicious." It said.

Brian tapped the boy's chocolate covered cheek. "You're disgusting." He teased.

"I think you mean _delightful_."

Brian didn't respond. He was too busy tracing all the remnants of Justin's treat with the softest, sticky touch. It must've been that very sticky that stuck yet another of his parts to Justin's mouth.

His finger rested there on Justin's lips, and Brian willed it to move. He was going to move it. He was. In just a second or three.

He hadn't had to pick a number because _that_ was Justin's tongue tracing the pad of his finger. Warm and wet , trailing up the side and back down to the tip. The sensation had Brian's body on high alert. He felt an electric echo everywhere that tongue had touched. A phantom feeling he'd always know. A fingerprint everlasting.

In a short, swift second Justin inhaled, bringing Brian's finger with the breath into his mouth. Brian's eyes flashed to blue. Justin was intently focused on him. Which he assumed he could've been the entire time Brian had been tracing his face. A fact Brian might have known had his own eyes not been trapped at his lips.

He felt Justin surrounding him and couldn't help but imagine that which he usually never allowed himself. Justin surrounding him in the most intimate, terrifying way.

Justin startled that thought when he licked again at the underside of Brian's finger. He pulled it the furthest it would go toward his throat. He gave one tight, strong suckle of pressure before releasing it back in to the wild where Brian's mind had wandered.

The summer air suddenly felt foreign to his now wet digit. It most certainly had enjoyed the warmth of Justin's mouth. It could've lived there. Brian would've let it.

His raging pulse seemed to control his body, escaping with one angry thrust forward. He grabbed at the back of Justin's hair and found a good place to anchor himself. Without hesitation he put his lips to Justin's. Brian licked Justin's bottom lip. Blond hair received one none too gentle tug backward. Justin liked it and followed the command. He tilted his head and let Brian's tongue find his own.

They tasted of chocolate and vanilla alike. Sticky fingers found flesh. July's humidity dripped the forgotten Humor bars onto the tracks. The boy's heat dripped droplets of want into the day.

It was a race to see which would melt first in the Hazlehurst sun.

They pulled apart with that pesky need to breathe joined their kiss. Panting and smiling and other 'ing-like' words had a conversation in the silence.

"We better get a move on before Emmett sends out a search party." Justin said jumping over the track, unnecessarily leaping over small hill. He had excited energy in abundance.

Brian stood, "Any excuse to throw a party."

He felt Justin grab his hand and pull him beside him. Brian evened his stride. Step for step. It was nice. To finally, for once in his life feel like Justin's equal. To not be the inadequate, unlovable boy he so often felt. This Sunshine made him feel worthy of it's warmth and he intended to bask in it. Ever fearsome that one day the rain would come.


	21. Doorway to December

The color of sun on velvet petals. Rows of sunflowers lined the walkway leading to a pristine white wrap around porch. Other colorful blooms hanged in large pots from hooks, even more lined the steps, a welcoming fleet.

Justin always loved this porch. So many times, on days like these, he'd lay out and sketch or gossip with Emmett on the intricate swing, legs lazy beneath them. Always ignoring Em and Lula's worries about pollen triggering his asthma.

It was surreal, walking up to it with Brian. Most of that aforementioned gossip was about the brunet. Most of it was not kind in nature. He almost regretted some of it, he almost didn't_. 'Brian Kinney was no stranger to unkind words himself .'_

Justin let the thought float away with the breeze. They were here now, happy. His thought rustled the bushes, it danced through the wind chimes he and Emmett had gifted Lula a few years back.

They'd made it from worn glass and old keys they'd found in one of the barns. The whimsical tinkling sang out and the blond closed his eyes. Enjoying the moment, this perfectly carved little piece of time. Whittled to perfection like one of Em's Uncle Hi's creations.

Brian liked this. This ease, this day.

He inhaled the scent of sweet growth and hard work. He hadn't been to his Granddad's farm in too long. He hadn't been to the Honeycutt's in too much longer.

The chimes playing in the wind reminded him of Christmas. More specifically of 'It's a Wonderful Life'. The Kinney's always watched it on Christmas Eve, right before midnight mass at the church where they'd play perfect family. Dinner and that film the practice run, the dress rehearsal to work out Jack's kinks.

'Every time a bell rings, an angel gets it's wings.' He let a ridiculous notion tug at his mind. He'd never thought himself worthy of wings before. These past few days with Justin had made Brian feel like he was already flying. The ground a hazy place he used to stand.

As the boys moved, Brian could swear the tall, greedy sunflowers were turning to follow Justin. Were seeking his sun. Their own, high in the sky, ignored.

"Step right up!" The blond instructed from the porch, his voice that of the oddities announcer at the fair.

It was not until then that Brian noted his nerves. Emmett was Justin's best friend. An annoying pang hit him at that. Surely the two had talked about him. Surely Emmett had been privy to all of Justin's thoughts on him. He didn't like knowing of Emmy-lou's knowing.

'_And what did Lula Honeycutt think of him?'_ Hazlehurst's delinquent corrupting Justin Taylor. Would they ask him questions? Would he answer them?

Brian's heart had picked up it's pace while the boy himself paused on the stairs.

Thumpa. Thumpa.

Justin was smiling down at him, his hand outstretched, inviting. Brian swallowed his worry and took it. It was warm. His pulse jumped for new reasons now. 'Step right up and see the boy with the world's fastest feeling heart.'

Justin didn't knock before pushing into the surprisingly sealed entrance. Brian had expected the screen door to be open, welcoming any breeze that stopped by. At his house, every curtain swayed in the air. On the hottest days (Read: Every day of summer in Hazlehurst) Joan would have Brian put a box a fan in the living room window.

He readied himself for a stifled foyer that didn't come. Instead, he was hit with a coolness that prickled his flesh. He'd crossed the threshold into winter. A doorway to December.

Brian's last day of school had ended early. Claire had picked him up and drove out to the city. They stopped at a ritzy jewelry shop and pretended to be the high society that Joan believed she already was. He remembered that air in that store, it was like this. Cooled by air conditioning, preventing the rich from the sweat of hard labor.

Lula Honeycutt had more money than anyone in town. In the state as far as Brian knew. She made a note to mention it to his mother, tonight. Nothing motivated Joan Kinney more than keeping up with the Joneses. He hoped to have a nice, air conditioned home for the remainder of summer.

"Hellloo." Justin called out as he made his way through the foyer.

It was surprising how familiar it felt with all years Brian had been absent. Their little group always came to ride the horses, to play hide-n-seek in the strawberry fields. The old farmhouse was still decorated exactly the same. This eased Brian some.

"Olly Olly Oxen Free." Emmett's disembodied voice sang out. "We're in the kitchen."

"Forgive the mess." Lula said as they entered. "I'm fixin' to make jam." She explained, gesturing for them to take a seat at the table. Brian saw no mess.

Turned out she hadn't been exaggerating about the tomatoes. They sat round and red in various bowls, a few less conformed fruits wore shades of green.

"I'll give you boys some to take home to your Mamas 'fore ya leave." She smiled. So did Brian. Jack loved tomatoes, maybe they'd please him.

He glanced around the room. In a collider on the counter, next to other neatly stacked ingredients, an abundance of strawberries sat too. Emmett smiled a greeting but stayed silent and focused. He stood at the stove stirring a stock pot with a wooden spoon. Something sizzled in a cast iron skillet.

The air was a tapestry of aromas. Flour, berries and sugar, threads of vanilla weaved throughout.

As soon as the boys sat, the tea kettle whistled and Lula stood. "How about some tea fellas?" she said removing the pot from it's burner.

Emmett retrieved several ice trays from the freezer. He emptied them into a delicate glass pitcher and added enough sugar to rival Brian and Justin's ice cream kiss. The older boy went back to his berries and what Brian saw now were green tomatoes frying, whilst the pitcher waited patiently on the table.

"Justin, please be a dear and get us some glasses." Lula spoke, pouring the kettle over the ice and stirring. Ice cubes giggled as they flirted with the glass.

Justin bounced up and went to a cabinet next to Emmett. Brian, in that moment re-remembered how at home Justin was here. Suddenly the only guest, he straightened in his seat. 'Good posture is polite.' Joan's voice echoed as he clasped the offered beverage.

"Thank you." He said and took a sip. He wasn't really thirsty but he thought it unwise to deny Lula's kindness.

Emmett still wore his pink pants though had changed out of his dress shirt and tie. A form fitting tangerine tee hugged tight his surprising biceps; once again reminding everyone just how strong a man he truly was. He set out all the ingredients needed for sandwiches on the table. He then retrieved the cast iron skillet of fried green tomatoes he'd made earlier from the stove.

"Come sit Emmy-bean, you've been cookin' uppa storm." Lula's voice seemed to float to the ceiling, the humidity in the fancy cooled air.

Emmett took the seat next to her, Brian Kinney was looking at him with a smile, the second in the same day. He knew a little about his blond best friend's ability to draw those out. Justin was smart, sweet and everything Em thought Brian needed.

"I'll let you borrow something if ya want to ride." The older boy offered whilst coating bread with mayonnaise and then handing the jar to Justin.

"Oh. I, thanks." Was what Brian offered. 'He sounded so dumb sometimes.'

He hadn't really put much thought into the day's itinerary. Really he was only trying to spend time with Taylor, impress Lula with his manners and eat lunch. He was a growing boy after all. But now, the idea of horseback riding sounded amazing. He didn't know the last time he'd been on a horse but he knew well the exhilaration of it.

"Absolutely." Lula nodded. "They need to be run today. Stretch their legs, enjoy the sun." She smiled and made a delicate cut to her green tomato. Brian knew where Emmett got his table etiquette, recalling a time the kid once ate a donut with a knife and fork.

The brunet wiggled to straighten his shoulders again. They slouched anyway when Justin stood, hazel eyes followed his movements around the kitchen. He brought back peanut butter which brought back Brian's memory of the blond being beside him breathing, peacefully snoring.

It was one of their countless sleepovers. On that particular one Justin had eaten mayo, PB and tomato sandwiches, one right after the other. Brian had drifted to sleep that night with Justin's Peanut butter scented huffs. It was the same snack the boy made now, slathering his bread with it.

"Yuck." He told him with a wrinkled nose and the start of a smirk.

Justin's response was an aggressive additional dollop of peanut butter. He smiled through his bite, a flag of defiance, brown, white and red.

Brian bit into his own sandwich, if you could call it that. Brian would call it a masterpiece. A layer of every available ingredient piled high between two homemade slices of bread. An array of meats, cheeses, tomatoes, lettuce, and colorful peppers from Lula's garden.

He smiled remembering a day in this very kitchen, the old woman hollered how she'd never spend a dime on a pepper of Culpeppers'. It was a good spirited feud that amused the town for decades.

Somewhere between his second and third bite, Justin's hand misbehaved. Brian nearly choked, the sandwich making it's way down his throat and tried to remain cool, calm and collected. Exactly the opposite of what his pulse was doing. His blood was hot and antsy in his veins.

Five feeling fingers found his knee, they danced there before trailing to his inner thigh. An innocent sound was strangled in his throat. To his surprise he remained upright when Justin palmed him through his pants…slo-o-o-wly.

His eyes flashed to his torturer whose own eyes twinkled their evil. The blond rubbed Brian again and turned to smile at Emmett who was gossiping about Calvin Culpepper's new car.

Surely Justin's fingers were directly connected to Brian's spine. Every time he felt them cup him softly, the sharp tinge shot up his back and to his cheeks. He hoped no one noticed his flushed face in the frozen air.

Though the surprising touch had lasted only a mere tick of time, it had felt infinite. His lunch no longer a choking hazard, Brian took another bite. He savored the flavors as Emmett brought up the Elvis flick coming to the drive-in and Justin dove head first into that conversation. Brian added a few nods of approval but concentrated on his lunch.

All the while trying not to notice the way Ms. Lula kept staring at him. How he could practically feel the heat of her eyes. He chewed slower. Gulped, maybe.

Lula drank deep the last of her tea, Brian swallowed his too. He was not anxious to meet the woman's eyes who he knew were watching him.

She studied him as through she could read his secrets on his skin. His flesh prickled where each word was written. She leaned in and touched his hand with hers. It was even more intrusive than Madame Marylin's had been. The warmth might publish the words scribbled there for all to see.

Word like, 'He liked Justin Taylor. 'He craved him.' More too, like 'Hypocrite.' 'Liar.' And surely, 'Sinful.'

Justin Taylor wanted to be with another boy. And that other boy wanted Justin more than everything combined.

Brian knew that Emmett already knew this of course but he also knew that (regardless of his penchant for gossip) the boy would never talk to his Aunt about someone's most personal business. 'No.' Somehow Brian could promise that Mrs. Honeycutt had a knack for knowing things all her own. Lula was always looking.

"It's nice to see you boys back together." She smiled.

Brian nodded and picked at the remains of his crust. A vulture in a desert of thought. He really didn't want to talk about this, his reunion with Justin. The one that had neared closer than Brian had been ready for.

Lula patted his fingers before she leaned within an inch of his face. "It's just nice is all."

She stood and Brian released a heady breath. The deep, philosophical enlightenment he'd come to expect from the woman hadn't come.

"Let's get you out of that geek suit and into something fabulous!" Emmett broke his focus, the boy clapped his hands and motioned for Brian to join him.

"I'll meet you in the stables in a few." Justin sang toward them flashing Brian a smile he wanted to kiss.

The brunet heard snippets of voice and laughter as Justin helped Lula straighten up the kitchen, he followed Emmy up the stairs to change into something fabulous.


	22. Words

There's a certain sound cowboy boots make on the cement of a barn. A distinctive clack that echoes through the loft. Brian heard it now, mixed with the nicker and neigh of horses and whispering hay.

Emmett's old boots had been hand made for him. On Brian, the expensive leather was curved in some places, leaving pockets of air in lieu of support. He swayed a little, graceful. Almost a dance. So this was what it was like to walk in Emmett's shoes.

("A perfect fit, we're both…tall.") Em had said and tossed Brian a pair of dark blue jeans. The fit had been close. They hugged him nicely, a fact for which the older boy hadn't shied away from. Brian's ass still tingled from Emmett's slap. It stunned Kinney yet still he smiled.

Emmett smiled too as he insisted they ride without him, He had ("Jam to Jar.")

The borrowed shirt was not, in Brian's opinion, as smile inducing. A sleeveless button up, black cotton with a pink floral print. Likely crafted from the left over material of one of Lula's hand sewn dresses.

The large stable was like the house in that it was clean. Meticulously so for it what was, almost spotless for a horse's home. The scent may take some getting used to if you hadn't grown up near farmland, Brian didn't mind it.

He glanced into the stalls as he passed on his way to find Justin. Fourth one down, he was greeted by an old friend. "Liberty Ride." He all but whispered eyeing the standard bred he'd always ridden when he came here. The horse stood fifteen hands high, glistening white. She was older now but no less majestic. She would always be young, she would always be beautiful.

"She still loves to run." Justin's voice joined them . "Never content with a trot."

Brian smiled and felt his past kinship return. He understood wanting to run freely, refusing restraints. He pet Liberty Ride's muzzle, puffed puffs of velvet fur and tickly whiskers. He slid his hand down her chin groove and patted there.

Justin picked up the blanket sprawled over the door of the stall. Brian helped saddle up the horses and released them into the pasture.

Heading toward the field, he felt Justin's warm hand tug his wrist. "I wanna show you something." The blond said. Brian quirked the eyebrow that melted Justin's knees and followed.

The last time he'd been here, this building was undergoing renovations so the route was up to Justin. They strolled down the center and up a set of dark wooden stairs, an unfamiliar door stood at the top. It used to be an open loft space, new walls kept it neat and tidy. Upon entering he saw that despite the fancy surface, inside it still held hay and heart.

In the corner an old easel stood to greet them, it was void of canvas and covered in splotches of years old paint. Stacks of books and loose papers rallied around a pallet of worn riding blankets.

Brian looked at the empty easel, "Wow." He exclaimed with as much sarcasm as he could chance before Justin hit him. "This is your best work." He concluded with a head nod. The blond settled for a smack to Brian's arm. It was a good sting.

If there was one thing Brian Kinney understood it was that pain could come in many forms. Jack's hands, Joan's ambivalence, Claire's sad smile. He knew too how every part of you is capable of it's own kind of ache.

Some go away, some don't. Brian pushing the boy away for sharing his feelings had hurt the most. But that ache was dulling all the time.

Especially now as he struggled to reach the top latch of the loft's doors. His shirt rose up and Brian enjoyed the way it skimmed his stomach.

"No, no. I couldn't possibly use your help." The blond said with his own dose of sarcasm, "You just sit there and look pretty."

Brian smiled although the other boy couldn't see it. "Well then, How's about I mosey on over here and help a damsel out." Brian drawled, the phrase at home within his Mississippi accent. He could feel Justin's eye roll but he let him help him with the latch.

"This is what I wanted to show you." Justin's eyes followed Brian's.

Brian had seen nothing but Hazlehurst his entire life but from up there it was different. It was a hell of a sight, looking the sky in the eye.

The doors framed the scene like a portrait. He thought of an oversized painting that hanged over his Mamaw's mantle. A vibrant forest, lines of trees protecting it's secrets. Once when they were little (a day Jack had been particularly angry) Claire had told him that that picture was magic. That in those woods was a village built of wishes. Sometimes Brian dreamed himself there, even nowadays.

The view from the loft was one Brian imagined city folk saw with closed eyes. The sky was an endless blue, the color of Justin's happiest smile. Wisps of white waded there like bare feet in Copiah Creek.

Postcard weather.

Brian thought of the sun stained stock on the spinning rack of Grassi's store. Hazlehurst was not on many lists of must see destinations. He thought of all of the places filled with shops filled with postcards that people actually bought. The whole world. So many places he longed to visit, to see, to feel the ground beneath his feet.

"This is my favorite spot." Justin turned to Brian then. "I come up here whenever I can. This," he gestured to the open view "I like to create in front of this."

"Well show me what you got blondie." The brunet moved for one of the many piled books. Justin rushed in front of him but failed to grab his hands.

Brian cocked his head and pouted. "But I already showed you mine." He remembered the feel of Justin's hands on him on the Ferris wheel.

Justin blinked dumbly a minute and Brian used the time to slink past and dive for the pile. His long arm finally earning it's keep as it grabbed the top one.

A dark blue leather bound sketch book that appeared the most used. It's bind as creased as the books that sat in George Shickle's library. Likely whatever artistic wonders lived inside had been drawn a while ago.

Justin reached for it again only to be stopped by Brian's palm to his forehead. Brian released his hand from a squirming blond when he looked down at the page and also looked up at himself.

The pencil sketched Brian Kinney was not unfamiliar. It wasn't excessively intricate having been drawn years ago; but it was still impressive, especially by Brian's standards.

The page held the very first picture Justin had made of the brunet. It brought a pleasant nostalgia to both boys.

Justin dropped his hand and let Brian thumb through the book. Page by page showed the progression of their friendship. Showed Brian at various ages, paying more meticulous attention to detail as he grew.

He was proud of Justin's talent yet was still a bit uncomfortable looking at himself in so many artistic mediums. The way blue eye's viewed him was hard for Brian to grasp.

On a page nearer the end Brian paused. This one wasn't of him.

A slim silhouette filled in roughly with dark shades. Fading greys to blacks. It could've been ominous if it wasn't so sad.

"Who's this?"

"It's me." The blond's answer was hushed.

"This is how you see yourself?" Brian swept a finger under Justin's chin bringing his eyes to his.

Blue didn't blink. "Sometimes."

Brian was stunned. 'How could someone so bright cast himself in shadows?' It was the first time all selfish summer that Brian realized that he wasn't alone. He wasn't the only one with darkness inside, shades of self-loathing and doubt.

Brian had struggled for years now with his attraction to Justin and he'd never really paused to consider things from Taylor's point of view. From the moment they'd met, the blonde had seemed so together. The brunet suddenly thought his talent for hiding his true thoughts inside of false ones was not as great as Justin's. When it came to feeling for Brian, Justin too experienced sadness and fear.

Nausea rushed at him. Brian regretted the times he'd picked on the other boy, had fought with him in front of his friends, had ignored him in school. For two years Brian had personally helped eclipse the sun.

He hated that Justin ever had a negative thought about himself. Hated even more his own urge to take them all away. It was all too much too soon. He'd planned on ignoring the blond until graduation and then letting him want a man worth wanting. But Justin was always refusing to be what he expected and had somehow doubled Brian's need for nearness. Was forcing him to explore everything that'd been brewing since puberty.

He was certain Mikey would accept him no matter who he turned out to be. Hell, Brian was pretty sure he was going through similar feelings himself. Lindsay would too, she already did. But what about the rest of the town?

What if the cloud of rumor that followed Justin and Emmett somehow absorbed him. Just sucked him right up into it's flimsy fluffiness, with no silver lining for Jack's golden boy.

Perhaps he was already trapped within it. When would the pressure give way? When would his heart break open and the truth rain down?

Brian's Kindergarten teacher once told him a simple something about rain clouds…Everyone beneath them gets wet. Secrets spilled.

He shivered now hoping his father was never caught in that downpour. Jack Kinney could never know Brian's true feelings. Feelings he was just now trying to figure out. He couldn't fathom which would be more gut-wrenching…His dad actually knowing him or… his mother.

His stomach tied itself into panicked knots. What would come to be if Joan Kinney learned of her son's attraction to Jennifer Taylor's? That he was the very type of abomination she sought to eradicate through prayer.

Brian had always shared his words with God before bedtime and each of his meals. Always, until freshman year. When Justin had signed his yearbook and the world was suddenly a reflection of itself. Upside-down it hovered, looming, ready to fall and crush him.

It was then that the brunet had vetoed his friendship with the blond. A coward afraid to examine himself below the surface. His outward appearance was where he'd put his effort. Fixated on presenting himself as an _almost_ man ready for cookie cutter living.

Upon further inspection Brian knew the person he was supposed to be. The true self he'd been ignoring. Underneath the hard line of his lips lived a smile that warmed him wholly.

It burned in sync with the one belonging to Justin. It lurked in the lips that begged to be kissed. And preluded the voice that surely wanted to say things Brian wasn't ready to hear.

He wasn't sure what love even was. He loved Claire, would do anything for her. His parents too, though that felt different in a way that Brian hadn't always felt loved back. He knew he loved Debbie and Vic and Michael, who was worth so much it hurt him sometimes.

But…'I love you.' He'd never said or written those words in that order before, to anyone. The blond had done so, so easily. That was _so_ like him.

Brian read the yearbook memory written in Justin's script. Sideways slant a curly 'J'. That particular time those three words felt different and Brian knew why, because for the first time he thought maybe he wanted to use those words …in that order. He didn't. Maybe he would… later, when no one could hear them.

He swept his thumb once more on the underside of Justin's jaw and pressed his forehead to the one of the boy whose face he held.

"I think you're a shit artist Sunshine." He dismissed the charcoaled characterization with a careless wave of the book he still held before letting it crash to the floor.

Justin jumped a little inside searching for sarcasm in Brian's close stare. He relaxed when he'd found it. It was standing alongside a softness that gave him a chill.

"This looks nothing like you." Brian said. He had aimed for casual but had landed somewhere near sincerity. He felt the warmth of a blush fill his face but he couldn't see it's tint so it wasn't there.

"If it did, I wouldn't want to kiss you."

"You gonna kiss me Kinney?" Justin smirked.

"If you'd shut up."

Justin's voice stopped talking but the same could not be said about the rest of him. Whenever Brian was close, every part of the blond responded.

A thrill talked it's way through him.

His heart hollered, echoed down his veins. His pulse pleaded and his bones begged.

Standing there in the silence, Justin spoke volumes.

When Brian touched his lips to his, it was everything he needed for as long as he could recall. All day Brian had had Justin's full attention. Had actually wanted him to have it. The boy's tongue was heated and needing and Justin's flesh prickled as it deepened. He groaned and Brian smiled around the kiss.

This was the first time Brian had wanted to give his all to a kiss. He needed every incredible second to count. He brought his hands to the back of Justin neck, the boy returned the touch with of a tug at brown hair.

Tiny breaths fought for freedom but were ultimately killed, innocent casualties.

Brian's fingers trailed Justin's shoulders, down his spine. He palmed the blond's hips and lowered him to the ground. They lay atop the old blankets. Tufts of rough straw stuck Justin in...places. He didn't mind.

Brian stretched his length and flattened to Justin's form. Piece by piece pressed together. They kissed still, noses and chins old friends.

Chest to chest Brian imagined Justin's heart had the same unbalanced beat his did.

Brian felt his weight descending, thighs harshly meeting, Justin breaking his fall.

And then, there was the other part. A familiar stiffness Brian couldn't claim ownership of. Justin was as hard as he was, which made the moment easier.

Justin's hands released Brian's hair and explored the rest of his body. He gripped hard the feel of his muscles.

Brian hooked his fingers in the waist of Justin's shorts. Their tips tickled the skin they found. He squeezed and then it was Justin's turn to smile around the kissing.

'Unison.' Such a wonderful word.

The two of them moved against each other with restless vigor. Friction sparked between their groins and Brian's nerves were static. Frizzling. Freeing.

He thought of all he was feeling just then, physically and not. He could've almost spoken actual words had he had any desire to remove his mouth from Justin's.

Words. _Again_.

Joan's prayers and hymns and psalms, they all preached love and acceptance. Now, Brian wasn't sure the lyrics ever meant it. He wasn't allowed to put Justin in his heart . To kiss him. To keep him.

Brian's belief that anyone was up there listening was dwindling. He wanted to believe but he wanted several things. Well he wanted just the one thing really.

Aunt Lula once told them "Wishin' don't make it so."

Without faith to weight them, all of those prayers and hymns and psalms were but hollowed whispers. Echoes in the church's vaulted ceiling.


End file.
